


I'm A Writer

by Penguinsandbowties



Series: I'm A Writer [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, Gay, M/M, Pinning Harry, Post Hiatus, harry gay, not mutual yet, pinning Niall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguinsandbowties/pseuds/Penguinsandbowties
Summary: A future fic in which Liam and Louis are back ground characters, Sara is gay, Harry has a crush on Niall, and Niall likes Sara, Sara likes Cara.





	

He saw at the god park everyday for two weeks, each time with a different dog, while he sat on a bench while his own pup was running along happily chasing dandy lion dust a few feet in front of him. First is was a small dog, and then a bigger dog, and then there was a dog that didn’t like to walk so she carried it before plopping down in the grass with it in her lap. 

On the day he finally got up from his seat on the bench she was with a fluffy shiatsu. The day had been slightly overcast, which was extremely unusual for what she had experienced in the two weeks of being in Los Angeles. The little dog was having the time of his life in the little fenced off area for the smaller dogs. It was like he hadn’t ever felt actual grass before. 

He walked up to her, dog leash in hand and his pup following close behind. She could feel his presence behind her. 

“Hi.” He said. The shiatsu looks up, as does the young woman. 

“Hi.” She said back, unable to hide that smile that told him she knew who he was. “Hi, I’m Sara.”

“Harry.” He said and then she held out her hand for him to shake. He did so gladly. His dog sits in front of the fence, nose poking through the chain links towards the smaller dog. The smaller dog, however, stands guard and begins barking at the bigger pup. 

“You’re a dog sitter.” She nods. “Interesting. Well, it was really good meeting you.” He says shaking her hand. “Maybe I’ll see you again.” He latches Kale back onto his leash. 

“I’ll be here.” After he walks away, she can’t help but stand there stunned. Harry, Harry Styles of the boy band One Direction. She closes her eyes and focuses on the encounter. Taking every detail in to keep forever. 

She sees him the next day at the park. This time she walks a Great Dane that towers over Harry’s Irish Setter. They both stand at guard but eventually sniff each others butts when they see Sara and Harry getting along. 

The next day he finds himself waiting and looking for her. She eventually comes, but not until he and Kale have to be off so he can make it to some dinner plans downtown. 

“Look, I’m glad I caught you.”

“You are?” She stops still, confusion covering her face, and excitement running through her veins. 

“Yeah, umh I might be going out of town for a few days and Kala—umh—I hate to put him in a kennel, so,” He fidgets, almost like when he did at thirteen before he had his first kiss. “Could I have you number?” She takes out her phone. 

“I hate to be this way, but when—“ she unlocks it and opens her calendar, dots almost on every day. “I’ve got some trouble dogs, and dogs that need attending almost all the time.”

“It’s not for two weeks. The eighteenth through twentieth.” She checks what dogs are scheduled, “Kale is easy he just need like one walk and let out in the garden a few times a day, feeding twice…”

“Yeah, I think—“

“I don’t want to put too much pressure on you.”

“No, it’s good, I’ve only got a dog to walk in evening on that Saturday, so it’s good, I can do it.” He steps forward to hug her tight. 

“You’re a life savor.” And then she rattles off her number. He saves the number, tells her he’ll shoot a text over later, and then kisses her cheek before he starts to jog off, Kale in tow. He calls her a few minutes later, but she doesn’t catch it because the dog attached to the leash in her hand pulls her towards a tree stump. So, while he’s off with one of his many LA pals, she sits at the home of the little pup she’d been hired to watch for the week looking at his name and number in her phone. 

She sleeps soundly on the memory foam of Mr. Blair’s guest bedroom while he’s off in New York in meetings for a business Sara has yet to figure out. He stumbles home drunk at four in the morning and falls asleep next to Kale on the couch. 

They don’t meet up again for a week. This time she’s waiting for him while the boarder colly she’s watching, dives after bugs in the grass. 

“Seems wrong, you know? Giving your number to a near random stranger who happens to be a big fan.”

“Believe me weirder things have happened.”

“If you say so.”

“Plus I have intuition, and I don’t get any crazy weird vibes and it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to get in my pants.”

“Oh, I’m not. Kinda gay.” She point to myself. Harry lights up. 

“Even more perfect.” He laughs. “So, umh, I’m new to the whole dog owner thing. What is protocol?”

She explains to him how it usually goes: Owners asks dog sitter over to see the house, and know where the food is kept, and what keys they might need to get into the house. Owner usually adds that a few plants need watering, and then finally sitter gets to meet the pup. 

“Is that so? I guess I need to invite you over then.”

“I mean I totally understand if you need to do like a background check…”

“Maybe we head to coffee and I get to know you a bit better?”

“Like a date?” She jokes. 

“Yeah.” He gives a firm nod. “I know of this twenty-four hour place, I do have plans for dinner, but maybe we could meet up at eight?”

“Sure.” Her nod his more hesitant. 

“Good because I’m dying to know more about you.” 

The rest of the day is kind of a blur, the boarder collie hangs out at the dog park for a while longer while Sara continues to try to wrap her head around the interaction. She has no idea how he trusts her so fully. After she drops the pup off at his owner’s house and she goes back to her apartment, she sits with her phone out. And only then does it cross her mind that she wants to tell someone, anyone, how mind blowingly amazing everything has been for her. 

But, then, she’s hit with the sudden realization that she doesn’t actually have anyone to tell. But that’s also the amazing thing. How could she tell a near stranger of her homoerotic compulsions when she couldn’t tell a soul in no-where, Michigan. When the near mention of the topic of anyone being gay let alone herself makes her body freeze and shake with terror. 

When they meet for coffee, they arrive at almost the same time so he holds the door open for her. 

“Hey, glad you could make it.” He says opening his arms for a hug. She melts into his arms; he hugs her like he’s known her a thousand years. The hug becomes a good substitute from the sort of familiar embrace from home. Harry orders a latte, plain and Sara order a cup of coffee with room for creamer. 

Harry lets Sara pick which table to sit at. She picks sit in the back corner of the chic café. Harry’s back is to the door, and his security guy is sitting a few tables away sipping a cappuccino. Sara wonders, casually, if he does this on purpose so that no passer byers can see him. 

“So.” She say after their drinks have arrived and she’s wiped off the corner of her mouth after a drip of coffee tried to escape. 

“Hi. Well, I’m not sure what you’re expecting.”

“I’m not sure what to expect.” He clears his throat before he starts again. 

“You dog sit, so does that mean you like animals?”

“Yes, I do. Most, I mean—not a fan of rabbits though—not sure that’s about.”

“How long have you been taking care of them? The dogs, not rabbits.”

“A few years, it put me through university.”

“That means you must be pretty good at taking care of them?”

“I’d say so.”

It’s a relaxed affair. Back and fourth, Sara giving the information that Harry requests. Soon he knows all about her high school and college, including the time she got so drunk at a friend’s house that the next day she—still drunk—called her mom whining about dying. 

“Favorite color?” She asks after he asks, they’re both still laughing about her dying story. 

“It’s important information.” He explains. She tell him it’s yellow, because it’s like the sun. He tells her, she answered well. When he asks her zodiac she tells him “Scorpio” without any hesitation. When she asks things about him he quickly answers but moves along quickly back to talking about her—like he’s trying to get a feel for what kind of person she is. They’re having fun. And she becomes so chilled out that she finally gets to joke that it must be interesting sitting on the other side of the interview. 

“You know getting to ask someone else questions for a change…”

“I do kind of love it.” He smiles. A silence takes over. She drinks the rest of her coffee and he continues to sip his. “You’re new to LA right?” She nods. “Well—I happen to know my way around some parts of the city if you’d like an official tour?” A laugh erupts from her, she has to cover her mouth and look around for cameras. When his hopeful smile doesn’t break she shake her head and smile back. 

“Sure, yeah that would be great. In all honesty I found that dog park on accident a few days ago.” 

“Cool—“ He starts to say but is interrupted by his phone going off. If I’m not mistaken, Harry is actually quick put off by who is ringing. “I’ll text you.” He says, before looking up for his security guy and he’s whisked away. 

The next few days pass quick. I hang out with Chaco a bit more at the dog park, and then I get a call from the little dog’s owner’s neighbor who needs me to sit for her dog for a weekend. Mrs. Barrow asks Sara to stop by in twenty, and so instead of actually making it for a full walk, Sara takes Chaco back home. Sara gives her rate and then, Mrs. Barrows tries to talk her down, but Sara stands firm. Eventually she agrees to the terms and then the tour starts. It’s easy stuff, but it turns out there’s more to dog sitting than just feeding the pup and letting her out every few hours. 

“Now, these plants only need watering on Sunday.” She says as they walk to a hanging basket the woman’s got in her office. It’s a big office with Mahogany walls and book shelves. The books shelves have big black binders on them—not books. She leads them out to a balcony with many pots with flowers overflowing out of them—“Now these get a lot of sun, so they need to be watered at noon and midnight.” I feel as though I should be taking notes, she thinks to herself as it’s more of a house sitting gig than a dog sitting gig. “The cleaning crew will be around Friday morning after I’ve gone, so if you could be here to let them in—that’d be great.” They’re back in Mrs. Bower’s kitchen now, white cabinets, white appliances, white counters, white back splash. She opens the fridge but doesn’t offer Sara a water even though she takes one for herself. “Oh, and before I forget—the sprinklers go on every night at midnight so I’ll need you to stay and make sure they do that because lately it’s a sort of hit or miss kind of thing.” Sara refrains from groaning. 

“Mrs. Bower, look I hate to say this, but when I told you my rates, those were for taking care of the dog alone—I hate to say it, but since it seems you want me to stay over night I think that I need to ask for some more money.” 

“How much?”

“I’d like fifty bucks a day.”

“Is that all?” She puts a hand to her chest and laughs. “She told me you were cheap, but I didn’t believe her!” Her laugh is more of a cackle. 

Another hour later and Sara has got everything written down this time of what the older dog owner needs Sara to do. She’s just about to push me out the door when I say she hasn’t let me meet the dog yet. 

“The dog? Oh.” Then she looks around a minute before spotting a Dalmatian asleep in the corner.

“Come here Precious.” She calls. The dog comes to her in an instant. It’s tail wagging happily. “Precious this is Sara. She’ll be taking care of you this weekend.” I barely have a chance to pet Precious before Mrs. Bower pushes me out the door. 

The weekend comes and goes. Plants all still alive, dog still alive, though I’m not sure if I’m actually breathing or not. But I do become about two hundred dollars richer, an extra fifty for the short notice. 

Tuesdays were the days Sara reserved to walk herself around the sunny grounds of LA, to try and get inspiration to write—her true passion. However, today, she decides to spend the day in pajamas and eating left over Chinese while watching make up tutorials on youtube. Harry sends a couple of texts but nothing about making any plans to show her, his side of LA. Then out of no where, he asks her address. She sends it and then asks why he wants to know. She barely has enough time to change out of her PJs before he hitting the buzzer to notify her someone was at the door. 

“Harry?”

“Sara?” Then she presses the button that unlocks the outside door for him. Then, like an eighties sitcom, she leave my door open a crack. She’s able to vacuum the rug near her bed, and tie up her hair in the time it take in to climb the six flights. 

“Hey.” He says from the doorway. “You know you should just leave your door open, anyone could just walk in.”

“Sorry, yeah I guess. I don’t know isn’t that how they do things in Seinfeld?”

“That took place in New York—“

“Exactly!”

“In the eighties. That was a different time.”

“Not to mention it’s a fiction TV show…” She adds. He smiles like a cat that got the cream. She takes a moment to digest the situation, and wonder in amazement, just how she got Harry Styles in her house. 

He sits on one of the stools at the counter. Sara lean against the headboard to her bed. Both have their arms crosses in front of them. 

“So.”

“So.” She squints her eyes. “You’re really hard to figure out.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Just that I’m a fan, a big fan of your little band that’s been gone since fucking two thousand and fucking sixteen, and you’re sitting here in my house like we’re the bestest of friends.”

“You may be a fan, but you don’t treat me like I’m a person who has fans.” He says a matter-of-factly. 

“Tell that to my fucking heart.” He laughs. 

“You’re good at keeping your cool. C’mon Sara let’s hang out.” He takes off his boots and goes to the couch where he sits. “Now, how has your day been?” He asks, tucking his legs underneath him to face her so as to make her feel like he really does care. 

“It’s been fantastic—learned how to contour today—didn’t I….” She says completely forgetting she had spent all day also practicing said contour. 

“Looks nice.”

“Thanks. What have you been up to?”

“Just wandering around really. Kind of bored. Kind of hungry, got anything to eat?” She snickers and nods at the half eaten pint of fried rice sitting on the couch—fork still resting on the edge. He picks it up, smells it and then takes a bite. “Is this from that one place on Concord?” He asks. 

“Is Concord just a few bocks north?” He nods taking another bite. “Then yes, it is.”

“Have you had their crab Rangoon’s, that shit is the fucking best in LA.”

They take turns with the fork like family. He fidgets a lot, which would normally bother her, but since she knows she tends to fidget sometimes too Sara decides to let it go. When she catches him trying to comb back his no longer mile long mane she says, “Weird isn’t it?” When he looks at her, she knows he knows that she is not just talking about the hair. “It was weird for us too, the fans… but I can’t imagine, I mean I suppose I don’t know what it’s like to be in a band like you, but—“ and then she stops because she’s not entirely sure where she’s going with it. 

Through her years of being a fan of his band, she’s learned to accept that what she saw probably wasn’t all of it. It’s not all choreographed dance moves and matching outfits—not that it ever was that with One Direction, but… It’s been made clear time and time again that the lads in the band played different roles. Each boy keeps up one image, and each boy only answers a certain type of question. 

Sara took the rumors and gossip with a grain of salt. Until Zayn quit. Until Zayn said he quit the band because of the stress that comes with the music business, and then a few months later come out with a whole entire album. She felt betrayed, she felt used. And then their break came, and it came as more of a relief than anything, mostly, at least. Until everyone and their mother was asking Sara why the band had broken up. 

“You guys were never breaking up right? You’re going to get back together some time?” She asks knowing full well that she might be crossing a line that she can’t come back from. Still she waits for an answer, . 

“Yeah, I mean—we are.” He mutters hesitantly. Like he’s not sure he should be saying anything. “That’s kind of why I need to find a dog sitter. Kale is still kind of a puppy and I want to bring him with me, but, like I said, he’s still a puppy. I can’t really bring him with me to meetings and sometimes meetings last all day, and soon we’ll be doing promo which means I’ll be gone for extended periods and I could bring him with me, but I just can’t fathom flying a pet to London or Australia…And studio time is precious and I need to be able to focus on studio not Kale, even though I love him. So no…” He shakes his head, a grin on his face so big it looks like it could crack, he finally looks at me. “No, we didn’t break up.”

The air escapes Sara leaving her barely able to breathe. This a member of the only band she’s ever truly loved is telling her that the hiatus everyone in the world thought was a subtle way of breaking up is actually coming back just like they said they would. A smile just as big as Harry’s covers her face, while she tries to keep her cool. It takes all that she is to refrain from jumping up and down and screaming and hugging him. 

“Are we friends now, because you dropped something more valuable than nuclear bomb codes?” Sara asks. Like somehow him deciding to trust her in a such a delicate way was like setting in stone they are friends now.

“If you’ll have me?” He requests. 

The next day Harry sends her a car to drive her to his house. When she tells him she can walk if he just gives her his address, but he doesn’t have it. He gives her a grand tour, and it’s plant free so, she’s not roped in to watering anything at any weird time like three in the morning. After the tour Harry asks if she wasn’t to stay for dinner, she does stay. 

“You know, I’m more of a cat person.” She whispers when the three of them are on the couch, Kale asleep with his head on her lap, and Harry just drifting off. He snickers and smiles. 

“Me too.” He says, voice gruffly from not talking. 

~~

“Sara?” He asks, to which she yelps just a bit, drop the spoon, and grabs her chest. Meanwhile, Kale is up in a huff jumping up and down around Sara, trying to make sure she’s okay until Harry walks into the room and he goes to him. 

“God damn it Harry. I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until later…” She says while she turns to face him. Behind him, stands three other lads, each just slightly shorter than the next. “You didn’t say anyone was going to join us.”

“Us?” Louis asks. “You didn’t tell us there was and ‘us’.”

“There isn’t an ‘us’, at least not in the way you think…” He huffs and stands in front of Sara to face his band mates. “This is Sara guys; I’ve enlisted her to take care of Kale when we’re off doing band stuff.” 

The “official” announcement comes as a surprise in the dead of night LA time. Mostly because after pasta that night the five of them got a little drunk and a little excited and someone, Sara thinks Liam, had mentioned how excited he was to finally tell the world they were back. While Louis and Niall agreed, Harry stayed silent. He had mentioned off handedly one night when he and Sara were on the couch—him probably thinking she was asleep-- that he was nervous they wouldn’t have anybody to come back to. The pictures went up to Instagram all at the same time. Hesitantly they refreshed their pages to see just how the world would react. Turns out Harry had nothing to worry about.

~~~

The air outside was saturated; Sara could feel the water vapor clinging to her skin as she and Kale walked passed the third Chipotle of their usual route. Turns out being friends with Harry means accidentally telling him how concerned she was about making rent one month and then him giving her an offer to come live in his house.

“You already are here more than there, and you know where everything is. That guest room was actually decorated for your use…” He says. Is this what happens in LA, you meet someone and suddenly you know everything about them?

Sara was still learning her way around L.A., Kale was helping. On their way home she stops at a food truck selling smoothies. She get’s something with avocados and strawberries, and on her way back to her new “home” she slurps it down happily. 

“How was the walk?” 

“It was nice. I’m not sure Kale knows his limits.” Sara turns and looks at him laying flat on the ceramic tiles next to Harry’s feet in the kitchen. Harry leaned down to pet the pup. “What are you doing home? I thought the studio was calling?” Considering she woke up about ten minutes before Harry burst from his bedroom across the hall singing about how it was going to be a good day and how happy he was to be awake and how wonderful it was he booked time in the studio because today was his day. 

“Turns out I’m a sham.”

“Not a good day?”

“Me and this music thing, it’s just—” He shakes his head. 

“Stop being dramatic.” She laughs at him and Kale’s head perks up excitedly from the floor. Then he sets it back down. Sara goes to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. She takes it out to the living room and Harry follows and sits next to her on his massive leather sofa. After a few moments, I twist the top of the plastic bottle and take a drink. 

“I’ve got a meeting in a little bit.” He says to break the silence. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and it’s with the label, they want to talk about touring again.”

“oh.”

“Do you think I need an assistant. The label thinks I do—the other boys have them. I’m not that busy though, am I?”

I took another drink of the water and look at him to see if he’s actually serious. It’s been at least two years since Sara had moved out of her studio apartment and into his mansion, but it’s still felt longer. You get to know a person over that kind of time. It was never hard either. Sara had always been very understanding so she never took it to heart when he missed dinner plans with her, or he would leave her behind as he went out of town for a few days. It’s not like he wouldn’t try to invite to those things but, she was his dog walker after all. 

“Umh, well I mean you have been kind of busy, but it’s not been that difficult to keep track of you—of course I live here, and I happen to be your best friend, so maybe you just love me more than everyone else trying to call you?

“That’s because I do love you more than anyone in the whole world.” He let’s his head drop onto her shoulder. 

“I do take a lot of messages for you though, and sometimes I have to wake you up, and make sure you eat and that stuff….”

“What if you become my assistant?” He looks up at her, full on wide-eyes, and pouty lips. 

“What, no—I take care of your dog.”

“But you also take care of me.”

Sara tells him she’ll think about it even though she’s already slacking a bit on her five hundred words a day goal, not that he knows about it. He goes to the meeting and when he comes back, he tells her that he “accidentally” told the label Sara said she’d help manage him. This sparks an argument about how she feel like I’m free loading and then she accidentally let’s slip how she hasn’t written in a long time and it’s because she’s already busy never away from Harry and Kale and Harry’s adventures. He doesn’t try to argue back. He just apologizes, which makes her feel bad for getting angry in the first place. 

“The money is good.” 

“Not everything is about money…” She spits back before she get’s a chance to pause to gather her thoughts. “I’m sorry too. Have you ever been writing, or attempting to write and you sit there for hours, the pen in your hand or your hands on the keys of your laptop and just nothing comes out. Or have you ever avoided sitting down to actually write because your head is just so clogged with thoughts and fears, and frustrations?” 

“Yeah, happened a lot when the band went on a break.”

“See, I shouldn’t be taking that out on you. I’m not saying that I’ll be your assistant—but I’ll think about.”

It wasn’t like she needed the job for more money, Harry took care of her plenty. And watching Kale, well she was able to put most of the money away now that she wasn’t spending it on rent. She accepts the job on the pretense that she thinks she’s been spending too much time by herself, alone, in her head, and getting stuck. That she spends too much time looking too close at the half stories I continued to write everyday without getting far. And that perhaps it would make her feel like she has more of a purpose. 

 

Open computer or open notebook, she felt like a fraud. She felt just as bad as it seemed Harry did when he got back from a bad day at meetings or in the studio. The nights where he’d slam in through the door, and thump straight to the kitchen, grab his favorite cucumber vodka and make his way to his balcony. He told me one time that he liked the balcony only because he could look out at people to watch them. He’d even invited her a couple of times to his drunken escapades. She was barely legal yet so of course she matched him drink for drink. And in the next morning when he got to sleep in, she had to answer to his dog.

“Moving to L.A. was the best thing I could have ever done.” Sara huffed as Harry thudded quietly next to her. He was light on his feet as they ran. He barely broke a sweat next to her and it made her jealous.

Becoming Harry’s very public new best friend and assistant meant also appearing in the magazines. First she was his baby mama, then cousin, then she was a house keeper. But even as each of these things she was ridiculed for being slightly larger than your average woman. It was also the recent press and attention she had received since appearing at all of Harry’s events with him. Harry never made a single remark here or there, or give me the stink eye if she brought them home a burger and fry from In-and-Out. She still eats those, by the way. She’s adamant about not reducing herself to a diet of only kale and avocado— which there’s nothing wrong with. She like kale now, but it goes much better with a big fat greasy burger, than baked in the oven at 350. 

Harry doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to me. He keeps his head up and eyes focused in front of him. There’s a security team around them, just incase. Kale is running along, leading the way really, in front of them. The sun’s up all the way now and beating down on them hard. Sara thinks she should have put sunscreen on. 

They get to mile seven when the crowd around them got crazy and they needed a car to come get them. They stop at that food truck and get smoothies on the way home. 

When they got back to Harry’s house they let Kale loose and collapsed on the floor. Harry was sitting on the arm of the chair sipping his drink while she threw herself on the couch. Suddenly they heard some shuffling in the kitchen— some keys clanging into the metal bowl Harry keeps in the center of the island, and then glass sliding over the counter. Harry stands slowly. 

“Harry ya need to restock your fridge with more Irish beer!” Niall calls from the kitchen. 

“What the fuck Niall!” 

Niall pops his head around the corner before entering the the room. He’s smiling wildly. Eyes shinning bright like a kid who thinks they got away with eating all the cookies out of the cookie jar. Harry goes to the other man to wrap his arms around him while Sara stands by. 

“What the hell are you doing here man?” 

Harry and Niall let go of each other and Niall happily wraps me up in his arms. He smells like freshly cut grass and cinnamon. Sara buries her face in his neck and she can feel him take her in like he missed her. 

“Sorry love.” He kissed my temple and then answer’s Harry’s question while Sara goes into the kitchen to grab a banana for herself. The phone in her hand, buzzes, she watches it light up with a message from someone trying to get ahold of Harry. Sara type out a quick response and then my phone rings with an alarm to get Sara and Harry in the shower before he has to get somewhere for some meeting. 

“Harry, we have to get in the shower so you can meet up with the Jones’.” Sara says while chewing a bite of the banana. After she swallows Harry gives the impression he wasn’t listening as he makes the same trip to the kitchen for banana for himself. Niall watches for a few moments. She’s eating the banana from the bottom and when Harry walks back in the peel is flopped over his fist. 

“You’re like monkeys the two of you!” He laughs. Sara’s phone buzzes again and it’s like Harry and Sara are trying to compete to see who will be ready first. Niall watches they dash around until we’re both out of the room. While sorting out her outfit for the day, she can hear the TV’s volume increase. Niall’s probably eating a bowl of cereal, his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

Sara sorts out some clean jeans and my favorite flannel before shedding my clothes and hopping into the steaming water of the shower. She’s washed and out within fifteen minutes. She has enough time to blow dry her hair most of the way dry before she has to through some makeup on and then finally put on her clothes. Sara is out of her room, and ready ten minutes before Harry comes down the hall pulling on his other boot. He still had his tooth brush in his mouth and his pants were still unbuttoned, let alone his shirt. 

The phone vibrates three times in quick succession. 

“We have to go now boys or risk being even later to the meeting.” We make it out to the cars. Niall hops in Harry’s, Sara calls shotgun first so she gets to sit in the front. 

“What’s this one about again?” Harry asks as he stows his toothbrush in a cup holder while he starts the car. He barely has his seatbelt on before he’s backing up. His car picks up Sara’s phone’s Bluetooth and she plugs in the directions to the gps. 

“The tour I think.” Because truth be told, not even Sara isn’t sure why they’re all going to offices at a place they’ve never been before. 

The sun bright and high in the sky already. The playlist Sara has chosen has just the perfect tunes for the small trip up town. The three of them wear sunglasses, Harry and Niall classic ray bands, and for Sara some lovely round ones that Liam picked out for her last time they were in Australia. 

Harry speeds a little so right before they make it to the office, Harry spots a coffee place and pulls around to the drive through. 

“Usual?” He asks both of them. Sara nods and Niall smiles. Harry orders and pays and when they get their drinks they’re off. Niall is staring down at his phone, a laugh about to erupt from his mouth. The driver pulls out in front of the the tall grey building and there’s a line of carpet from the car door the boys and are supposed to exit from all the way to the door of the building. Middle aged men and women with cameras on either side. 

Niall lets Harry go out first, and Harry lets Sara go out first. She stands there for a moment waiting for security to get to them, and as she waits she can hear her name being called out in all directions. Sara tries to find the source at first, but there’s more than one. Security pushes Niall in front of her, he takes her hand, and Harry takes her other. Niall may joke about how close Harry and Sara have gotten, but it’s really the three of us that have come together. 

“Sara!!! Are you Harry’s new girlfriend? What about Louis? Why are you always around?” The questions go in one ear and out the other. 

At the meeting Sara has to plug in new dates into the calendar and take notes on the important stuff she knows Harry will have questions about later. There’s a giant packet handed out on ideas for new merchandise that the boys will eventually vote on, as well a stack of resume’s of new tour managers that might be considered for the job if and when they boys decide to tour again. 

In the time she spends with them, mostly drunkenly reminiscing on the past, Sara can tell Harry misses it. And Niall too. She doesn’t see it too much from Louis because he wants to spend all his time with Freddy, and Liam wants to spend time with his family, but she can tell they all at least sort of miss it. She can kind of tell they’re afraid to back though. They don’t want to get too greedy with it all. 

“Boys.” Louis begins. And they all know what it means. Sara knows too, and with that she leave them be. Sara get in one car and they all get in separate ones to be taken somewhere for they’re infamous “lad’s nights” so they can have a proper chat and discussion about it. 

Sara is driven back to the house where Kale sits waiting at the door. She greets him with a head scratch before she goes out to the balcony with Harry’s favorite cucumber vodka to think about what tour might mean for her. 

Kale comes out with her, he sits at the end of the lounge as she begins pouring a small shot of the dry liquor. Would they put me on Harry’s bus, or another one? She downs the glass. Will I have any other responsibilities other than Kale and few reminders for Harry? She pours more. What will my family think? She tops off the tumbler glass and takes a sip. Will I have time to write? She takes another small sip. Will I feel like writing? What if I have too much time to write? What if I just don’t write anything? She gulps down the rest of the glass. 

The night goes like that until Sara runs out of the expensive vodka. Then she moves on to the wine Harry keeps in the wine cooler. She keeps drinking as her mind races, each thought more frightening than the last. Eventually she passes out. 

A few hours later, Sara wakes up to Harry shaking my shoulder. Kale is still sound asleep—his head on my calf. 

“What?!” She startles awake slurring the word slightly. She jumps and the glass between her arm and the arm rest slips and crashes to the patio below waking Kale in a moment of panic.  
“What do I do about my writing?” Sara ask suddenly. “If you go on tour and I have to be your assistant there, will I even have time to write? What if I meet a girl and I love her and then I have to leave to go to the next city? How come you’re making me go with you?”

“Sara.”

“I really love working for you Harry, but like what if they force me to be your girl friend next? I don’t even like boys. I like girls and I want to write about girls and I want to fall in love with one, but I just don’t know how you expect me to love you if you’re not a girl….” 

Sara goes on a bit longer about what she likes about girls, and who she has crushes on, even going so far as to ask Harry, what his friend Cara Delevign is like. Harry lets her get it all out of her system as she tries to take care of her. She starts crying halfway through her rant, but Harry still listens. 

“And if I don’t go on tour with you how will I make rent? This is like the best job I’ve ever had, and you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother and I just really love you, but I don’t know if I’m ready to become your wife.”

“Sara, love.” He says picking her up and sitting the sloppy girl next to him. He shushes her by putting a finger over her lips and pets down her hair as she sobs into the collar of your shirt. He smells like tequila. “You don’t have to come one tour if you don’t want to. We’re still not sure if it’s the right time babe. And I think you’ve had too much to drink so let’s get you in a bath and then to bed.”

It happens almost like it happened the first time Harry had invited Sara for a drink with him. Except he’s completely sober this time. 

“What if your fans hate me and I can’t be left alone anymore? What if I screw up and you hate me? And what if—“

“Sara, shhhh. It’ll be okay.” 

He uses his hands to wet her hair as she cries into her knees pulled up under her chin. He drops some lavender in the water and waits for her to stop crying. Sara doesn’t but she does stop talking, so he leaves for a moment to grab her a glass of water. When he get’s back all she is, is a runny nose and hiccups. Sara drinks the water slowly, the lavender creeping up her nose, slowly taking over her body into relaxation. Sara sits watching a patch of bubbles floating on the surface near her shin. Harry stays silent, playing with his rings—waiting… 

“I-“ 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Do you want me to help you to bed?” She shakes my head. He get’s up off the toilet and heads out. Before he get’s to far away Sara calls out to him.

“Thank you Harry.” He nods and slumps off, only the loud thud of his heavy steps as he makes his way to his room filling the house. 

With another glass of water she quickly sobers up, but she only gets out of the bath once she’s pruned nicely. She drains the tub and dries off before slipping a too big tshirt over her head. The bed calls out to her so gets in, and once she shuts her eyes, she fall into a dreamless sleep. 

Sara hears Harry wake up early in the morning, and she’s afraid he’s going to persuade her to go on a run with him. Her head pounds so hard she can’t open her eyes. My whole body is aches and nausea sweeps over me. She stays in bed listening to him make his acai bowl—the blender makes her cringe. And then she hears him lace up his shoes and hook Kale up to his leash before he leave for his run. As hung over as Sara is, she can’t fall back asleep between him leaving and coming home. She waits in bed, embarrassed to face him after last night’s dramatics. 

Harry doesn’t wait for me to wake up. 

“Sara, love?” He knocks gently on knocks on her door before opening it and peaking in. He has a tray of oatmeal, two bottles of water, and a small white bottle of pills. Kale trails behind Harry making Sara brace for impact. Kale doesn’t jump onto her, he’s a good pup. 

“S-“

“Here.” He interrupts again, opening on the of the bottles of water before offering it to her along with a couple pills. She drinks some water and swallow the pills down. 

“Will you let me speak?” Sara asks. 

“You don’t have to come with me, or us. I understand it’s a lot to ask of you—of anyone. You helped me immensely and you’ve made this mansion feel as close to home as it could possible get—even though you are a young woman, from the Midwest, who has just graduated college. You’ve become like family.” I take a moment to look at the oatmeal. “I would personally love having you come, and I would love for you to take care of Kale when I can’t, and I would love to have you stay on as part of the team, but like I said—I understand it’s a lot to ask.”

“You feel like family too.” She says first. “Don’t get me wrong Harry, I do want to go. You’ve taken me to see some really amazing things, and I’d really like to come see more—but I just don’t know…”

“You don’t have to decide now. But I just wanted you to know it’s an option.” 

“I’ll go.” I say suddenly. 

“And like you can have as many breaks as you need, and if you end up coming and not liking it you can just take Kale and come back here if that’s what you want—What?!” 

“I’ll go.”

“You d-“

“I’ll come. I’ll be you on tour dog sitter, and assistant, and friend, and running buddy, and fake girlfriend if you need.” She says before she finally take a bit of the gooey oatmeal. “Is this brown sugar?” Harry smiles and nods. 

“You won’t ever have to be my girlfriend. I’m gay too.” The oatmeal is suddenly a hard rock in her throat, she swallows hard. 

“W-“

“You told me last night. When you were drunk.” It comes rushing back to her. The questions and the anxiety. 

She’s never told anyone that part of her life. She never thought she’d ever meet someone who she felt she could tell. It crushes Sara to hear she gave a drunken confession. Finding this part of herself in college had made her want to leave the small minds of the Midwest. This was something she kept telling herself she wasn’t. She was good at denying that massive part of who she was. Moving to California and getting the job as a dog sitter for Harry made it easy to forget. His fast paced life made it easy to just focus on him and his dog and it made it easy. Living on the beach helped too. 

Sara doesn’t even know what prompted her to think about what would happen if she met a girl on tour who she like and might want to be with. Or what made her decide that Harry’s public relationships were arranged through his management with contracts and a pretty pay day. What made me think she could ever be his next contracted “girlfriend” when she wasn’t anything special like all his others. The questions and anxiety made her feel numb again. 

“You like boys.”

“And you like girls.”

She sets the spoon down, and takes a few deep breaths. 

“I’ve never told anyone this before.”

Harry sits at the foot of the bed. He folds his hands in his lap. 

“Well, very few know about me…” He says. “You also told me you had a crush on Cara.” The blush deepens, she refuses to look at him. Refuses to confirm or deny that that part of last night may or may not be true. “Could get you her number if you’d like.” He offers leaving Sara to just shake her head with wide eyes and a furiously beating heart. 

The silence isn’t one that is awkward or unnerving. Quite the opposite actually—it’s one of understanding. Sara understanding how delicate it is to tell someone even in this day and age. And how delicate it is to finally be able to tell this to someone. They both sit breathing, and understanding each other more than they ever have. 

“I’m going to be telling everyone soon. I don’t want to hide this part of myself anymore—I don’t think I can hold this in…” He starts. It’s Sara’s turn to listen closely—not wanting to interrupt or overstep. She wants to be there for Harry in the exact way he’s been there for her these past couple of years. “The boys know, but not many past that. My sister, and mum, Robin, Des. They were just all so great, and I know loads of people are already expecting me to come out, but it’s hard to that if/when I do, people will automatically assume I’m with Louis. Or one of the other boys for that matter! I—don’t want to put them through that, and It’s not fair for them.”

“But you have to be fair to yourself too.”

“I know, and part of me thinks I’m ready to face the world with this, but the other part can’t let go of it being so much bigger than just myself.” 

The silence takes over again. Sara thinks of what it’d be like to tell her own mom and dad, and what it’d be like to tell old friends from high school, and then that makes her think of old friends who she probably had a crush on, but didn’t know it was a crush because she didn’t know that it was more than just mutual affection. 

“Louis makes fun of us all the time. He’s always taking the piss—“

“He knows, but he thinks I still like you—‘

“But like more than just friends….” She nods once and bites her lip. Sara puts the tray of food and water and medicine on the floor to pull down the big comforter, she pat the spot next to her and Harry kicks off his boots and slides back under the covers. He puts his head on her shoulder and takes her hand in his. She kisses his forehead. The silence is thick, but not inhibiting. Harry made one last movement to shut off his phone before he settled down for a nap. 

 

A few hours later, they emerged from the comfort of her bed. Both of them refreshed and calm. Kale perked up from his spot on the floor, he looked at us with hopeful eyes. 

“You want a walk buddy?” Sara asks going to her closet. After throwing on some clothes, she see Harry and Kale sitting in the kitchen waiting for me, along with a few security personnel. 

“You’re coming?” I ask Harry. 

“We got to stick together.”

“Not all the time bud.” 

“It’s nice out, and I’ve got the day off.” He says holding out his arm with a broad smile over his lips. He holds out his other hand that has Kale’s leash in it. Sara takes it and they leave. The four head out the door and out to the sidewalk. They walk quickly around the block. Harry’s phone rings a few times while were out, but he waits until we get back home before he shuts himself away in his office. 

When Sara goes out to his balcony to clean up her mess from last night, it’s already clean. She sits on the chair and Kale sits with her. Sara watches the cars in a form of rush hour traffic on the freeway. Kale licks his paw and then lays his head down on it. She watches the leaves rustle with the slight breeze. While busy, this life is short of imperfection. Meeting Harry had instantly changed Sara’s life forever. Giving her opportunities she would never have the chance to attempt, and a lifestyle that was so far from anything I’d known. This was a privileged life, that Sara lucky to fallen into. 

A bit later Sara begins her own work in her own office just down the hall from Harry’s. He was shouting loudly at his phone for hours while Sara typed up schedules and plans for the upcoming week. She read emails and made lots of phone calls arranging stuff for Harry. Once Sara had finished responding to emails she decided to give myself a break. 

Harry was only quiet muttering, now, behind his door. Sara passes his door not even trying to figure out what was going on. 

Once tucked away in her room, Sara changes into a rarely used swimsuit and then heads down to the pool. The lawn people had just finish landscaping so the area look clean and fresh. Flowers were bright and hedge rows straight. 

Sara liked going swimming in the pool. she has always liked swimming. Getting to move her body so freely in the water. And sitting on the bottom pretending meditate until she ran out of breath. She thinks she could spend hours there. Floating on her back, or doing laps, or sipping margaritas on a floaty. She liked to think that one day she have my own house with an Olympic sized pool to learn how to dive in. 

Sara was floating on her back, my ears under water, when she saw Harry walk to the edge of the pool. She waits a second before she pushed my feet to the floor of the pool. 

“That was management.” She says. 

“So, I guess the latest rumor in the rumor mill is that you’re dating me and Niall. Don’t worry though, I’ve just got off the phone and I’m in control of the situation. They didn’t want to deny or confirm it, they—they want to go with it. Use it to boost ticket sales?” A Harry’s strides get longer as he paces the length of the pool, his bottom lip between his fingers while he speaks, the words tumbling out fast without thinking. “I told them that after Kendall I’m done, that I never wanted to do this again, that I would do this again. When I told them that they asked why so I told them, I don’t them I’m a bloody homo and that I wanted to come out that I didn’t want to hide anymore. The bastards said I couldn’t, so I asked what could stop me, I just can’t believe they’re making this something that it isn’t! I can’t believe what they’ve been telling me!” As Harry yells Sara is left to question why no one tried to contact her first, usually she was the one to handle shit storms with the most logical reason. 

Harry pauses and stares down at Sara, still at the edge of the pool. 

“I told them I wouldn’t let everyone assume we were together. I told them—I can’t do that to you, I can’t let them bring you into this.”

Sara can’t believe any of this herself. She doesn’t understand how someone could be so heartless. How they could put a person through this much distress. Sara knows though they went to Harry first because they wanted him to ask her to do something, in this case be his pretend girlfriend, and they knew she can’t say no to Harry, virtually no one can. They can, but that’s besides the point. The point is that they are constantly making Harry and Niall and the other do things they don’t want, and now Sara can’t help but feel like she’s being dragged right into it. 

 

xXx  
Sara take a deep breath and after given a moment to herself, she’s aloud to look at herself in the mirror. The sparkly gown, with eye makeup she’s never worn before. The high heels someone it buckled her feet into. Her new long hair sown into her actual hair, styled in mermaid waves. It confused her to see it like this. The dress pinches her sides, and the zipper digs into her back. Without straps Sara keeps thinking the top of the dress is going to fall off. Sara takes another breath, and then closes her eyes. When she opens them she decides to not worry about anything because the boy’s personal stylist really delivered in the dress department. 

“Wow.” 

Sara turns instantly on the ball of her foot, but forgets she’s in a gown, and that she’s in heels, so that when she does spin, she trips and nearly falls. Harry steps forward to catch her. 

“Niall is going to be speechless.”

Compromise is a long word. Full of nerves and regret, excitement and terror, secrets and hiding. 

Harry is in a custom tuxedo, and he looks just as handsome as ever. He’s slim, but the tartan pattern doesn’t make him look lanky. He fills the suit, but it’s loose around his body. After letting her go after she regains balance, he kisses her cheek. 

“You’re the best. Thank you.” He whispers. Then he leaves. Once he’s at the door he yells out of the room. “She cleans up nice!” He yells a hint of laughter follows after him down the hall and back where the rest of the clan is sat. She was the first to wake up and now she’s the last to finally be ready. 

She begins her trek out of the room, but she almost instantly wishes Harry were still here to help her down the hall. She takes small steps, and stumble half the time. But eventually Sara makes it there. When she does, she hesitates before walking into the room where everyone else is. She hesitates so she can panic again—questioning everything she’s been doing. The dress is almost too tight, and it feels likes it’s getting tighter with every breath. 

“Sara?” Niall asks from around the corner. 

“I swear to god, if I hear no much as a giggle..” Sara starts, but they all know how nervous she is to be here, in this, doing this for them, so they understand. She takes the final step so she’s in the doorway. The room goes silent. 

“Holy Christ.” Louis mutters to Liam. All four boys stare at Sara in admiration and adoration. A girl could get used to this. 

“Sara, Jesus fuck.” Niall says coming closer and holding her in his arms. “Thank you.” He says kissing her blush covered cheek. 

“So how long do I have to be in this circus tent?” The tension breaks in the room, and the laughter slowly enters into everyone’s face. “I am definitely going to need you to help me walks everywhere.” She tells Niall as she pretends to straighten his tie. Sara is the same height as him now, with the heels on, so she can (finally) look at him straight in the eyes. 

In a sort of rush, they’re shuffled out of the hotel and into cars. Harry, Liam, and Louis, in one jet black Range Rover, and then Niall and Sara in the other. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she wasn’t supposed to jump into gowns, or be seen out in public with Niall; this wasn’t what we had agreed upon. Niall had been kind enough to approach me himself, and ask if terms could change. And truth be told she 1was having a good time(for the most part). The spending time with Niall wasn’t bad—it was reading about it the next day. 

There was one date that was incredibly hard to hear about the next day, because moments before Sara was honest with herself and honest with Niall. They had been on their way to a “romantic” dinner when she told him. He had gone all out for her it had almost made Sara feel like it was a real date. Sara cried and Niall held her. Barely moments after the two had been pushed out onto the street, into a car and then out to a small café where they were seated on an outside patio. Her eyes were red, but he held her hand through it all, and when they were sat, he made sure on cameras could get a clear shot of them. 

Later, Harry told Sara that he was made to do the same thing with the band once. He told them and then they rushed out inn front of the cameras—eyes red. Niall stood by him the whole time. 

It was slow going, getting to the event. And even though Sara remains Harry’s PA through all this “girlfriend” shenanigans, I wasn’t entirely sure what we were all dolled up for. Sara could hear the screaming as the car approached the end of the red carpet. Niall squeezes her hand tight.. 

“There will be some after parties, most of which the public and the media and anyone else won’t know about. Have fun at one, meet a cute girl—let off some steam.” Sara blushes as Niall kisses her cheek and the door is opened for them. Niall jumps out and the crowd erupts into hysterics. He holds his hand out for Sara and the crowd get’s even louder when she pops her head out. 

The boys join the couple a moment later, and a woman with a head set a clip board charge after them. She barks orders to the group in a sort of code Sara didn’t learn in college. Niall does, as to do others though. They stand around Sara and lead her over to a line of photographers. 

“A couple with the whole group, then just the boys, and then just Niall and Sara!” She calls. Sara’s eyes go wide and she hides her face in Niall lapels. He rubs her back and kisses her temple. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. Sara swallows hard as she get’s herded over between Liam and Harry. 

“And we’re smiling!” Louis calls out to us which the lone girl was glad for because she didn’t know what to do with her face. The row of paparazzi is yelling at us not to, but when Sara looks to the boys, she seems them still smiling. They change order some, and then again—just Niall and Sara. He holds her and she squints at the crowd of grown ass adults yelling in front of her—trying to look happy. 

As they walk to a line of people with cameras and microphones Niall tries explaining to Sar that media outlets actually like it when you don’t smile. He tries to tell her how to do it, but ends up laughing when she tries. 

“Just keep smiling babe.” Harry says when they approach a tall woman, also in a gown and makeup, she too is smiling. 

“I’m here with One Direction, and is this Sara?!” She exclaims. Sara shies away not saying or doing anything. “Boys scoot over! I’d love to get a minute here with Sara!” She says something Sara can’t hear and then the boys chime in. Then she’s directed to tell them who she’s wearing but the name escapes her, she’s not even sure some one told her who, but then she tells me I look great. Sara thinks she probably says something between it all, but it just happens so fast she can’t believe that she’s already walking a few feet to the next interview. Harry tells her she did great but she’s not sure if he’s just saying that to make me feel better. 

Sara has never posed so much in her life, so when the next interview comes around she stays back with security refusing to step up on the platform. It’s a long walk into the arena for whatever they’re here for (she’s still not sure). It’s loud and everyone seems to be calling Sara’s name, and she doesn’t really understand why.

“Body positivity”, they said when marketing the idea of me becoming more involved in the marketing portion of the boys’ ever not changing image. When rumors sparked is was an avalanche of love put onto the idea that Harry might be with a “plus size” woman. Then the meeting executors moved on to how the relationship would attract so much more press if the girl, AKA, Sara is also not really known. Harry had planned it to be him, but Niall spoke up at last second and took it on himself to not make Harry go through it again. Sara from no-where Michicgan had a chance to date one of the boys. Not sure they knew just how bug it would get, just how much attention Sara would get. 

So, it still didn’t make sense to Sara why people thought so highly of her. She couldn’t figure out why people were calling her up all the time to be on their show, using Harry’s work email to contact her. 

“This is not only the first red carpet you’ve brought someone with you, this is the first red carpet that any of you boys have brought anyone. I don’t want to ask why her, why now, buuuuut.” A man very bluntly says looking at Niall and Sara. 

“I guess it just shows how special he is to Niall, and to all of us really.” Louis says. 

“How did you two meet?” Niall and Sara trade glances and share a giggle just as were told to do, if they were ever asked this question. 

“Well, she met Harry first, she was his dog walker-turn- P.A.- turn my girl friend…”

“Why not Harry then?” The man asks Sara. 

“Umh, he’s cool and nice and stuff, but I’ve lived with him for a while so I know exactly everything about him… so I guess you could say the same about me.” Sara turns to her best friend and winks at him. “He’s seen me at my best and worst, and quite frankly I think it’s very a very mutual feeling in that we just don’t see each other in that way.”

The interviewer looks stunned, confused as to how that came from Sara, the girl who’s here to just look pretty, and the girl who hasn’t said very much. But there it is. Liam pats her back, and Niall squeezes Sara’s hand. She smiles and waves to a crowd of people behind a barricade that’s behind the camera man and the crew for whatever production company it’ll be cut and sent to. 

The group walks on to the next one and they do a few more before Sara is aloud to be excuse into the theater. Security helps her into the room full of everyone else who has already arrived, and then to the groups of seats. She takes the one furthest from the isle and someone asks if she wants anything to drink. Sara asks for some water. The boys show up before the water does, and Sara stands and waits to be told what to do next. Just as the boys sit the lights go down and it feels like the show is starting. 

Niall instinctively reaches over to hold Sara’s hand, she lets him. And they sit like that, just in case the cameras flash onto the five of them like they inevitably would. Awards were handed out, and there was a lot of clapping. Sara had gotten to see so many people she’s never thought she’d ever get to see, let alone meet them. They would come off the stage and since the boys were sitting close to the front, Sara was sitting close to the front, and they would shake the boys’ hands and then mine and lot told her she looked pretty. A permanent blush took over Sara’s whole body from this. 

 

“How much longer?” It seemed like the show was going on forever, and Sara’s begins feeling restless.

“No clue.” Niall whispers back. “You okay?” She nods back.

“Think I might go use the restroom.” She says standing. 

Niall grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. Sara stumbles and almost falls, making a squeak he catches her. He catches her and he stares deep in her green eyes, and it’s hard because behind the happiness Sara can see sadness. A new sadness that has nothing to do about not being able to just be normal. But a kind of sadness that has to do with his hand on her back, and the way his lips are so close to hers, and the way he’s always making sure that she’s okay, and the way he lit up when she walked into his room tonight with her dress on. 

She shakes free from his grip, suddenly not being able to handle it, especially after noticing the the squawk she made when falling had called attention to those around them. 

Sara’s stays out in the lobby for a while after she spends twenty minutes looking for a bathroom that apparently doesn’t exist. There’s security all around her and people rushing around to get to where ever they need to go. She can hear the show going on on one side of one set of doors and the masses of people outside in the streets on the other side of the other door. She leans her head against the wall trying to forget what she had just figured out about Niall. 

When she eventually goes back in and sit with boys Niall has moved, and Harry is sitting in his seat. She leans forward to see where he’s gone, but he’s not sitting in the row. 

“Where’s Niall?” 

“He wasn’t with you?” 

She shake my head and the show goes on. People win things and everyone claps. It’s just like it is on the television, except with the added pressure of possibly being on the television. When it’s over there’s a but more standing around and doing small talk with other celebrities. Sara felt like a few people were coming over to talk to the boys just so they could talk to her. They’d chat with them for a bit and then whisper in their ear and they’d turn to her with a big smile. 

“Sara! Hi.” He tall and wide man says to me. His arms are already open. 

“This is James.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. 

“Harry tells me that you’re the best P.A. he’s ever had.” Which makes Sara blush, just like the other times when someone tells her that Harry says that about me. 

“Well, I’ve seen your show, you’re hilarious!” She says trying to turn the attention. 

“And now you’ve captured Niall’s heart—that’s so sweet.” He kisses my cheek and hugs me and then shakes Harry’s hand before turning away. Sara still hasn’t seen Niall yet. 

She still doesn’t see him until they’re rushed out of the theater, security all around them. When the crowd pushes in she feel his hand in hers and it feels good to know he’s there. He helps her in the car and then it’s just them. She takes the opportunity to slip off the heels and pull the skirt of the dress up over her knees—suddenly feeling hot. 

“Did you mean what you said before?”

“About the party thing?” She nods. “Harry goes to them all the time, in fact, he might know someone.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

She hesitates. “What about you…”

Sara doesn’t say anymore, and then he doesn’t say anymore either. Something in his eyes changes though. She can’t tell what, but it does. The car drives on for a while Niall sits far away from her, he’s on his phone texting someone. After a while he leans forward to tell the driver an address. The car makes a right turn and continues on. 

“Harry says this is where he’s going.” He turns in his seat to grab something from the back. “He also told me to tell you to change—here’s you bag, we picked some clothes out for you in case you wanted to go out.” He hands a bag over she keeps it in my lap. His phone goes off and he reads the text. “Says to put on the jeans and the button up that’s in there.” Niall tosses her some boots and tells her to turn. I blush and let him unzip me. 

Sara changes quietly next to him, his eyes stay on the phone. 

The car stops about twenty minutes later and the door is opened for Sara. She gets out and then stand waiting for Niall to follow even though he hasn’t changed or made any mention of coming with her. 

“Aren’t you coming?”

“No, I’m a bit tired and I think I’ve had too much to drink.” He says without so much as a slur. Another car stops behind theirs and Harry get’s out. “Have a good time love.” He leans over to kiss Sara’s cheek. 

The door shuts and Harry’s holding her in his arms before she can say anything back. 

The party is loud, a thumping bass even from the private driveway where the two stand. The lights a bright in each of the windows and everything smells like cotton candy. Harry guides her up the steps to the front door which opens without for them. Harry doesn’t slow their stride and walks right in. Harry stands on his tip toes to find where the bar is. Sara stays close to him as he makes a bee line for some booze. She accepts a glass of something from him before he kisses his cheek and stumbles away. 

“Wait!” She calls. “I don’t know anyone!”

“You know me.” A woman whispers in her ear. Her British accent sending chills up Sara’s spine. 

Sara isn’t sure how she makes it back to the hotel that night. Truth be told, she’s not even sure how she’d make it home if she were sober, let alone completely drunk. But she wakes up in the bed she was in the night before so she supposes she’s where she needs to be. Her head pounds, but luckily her stomach is completely intact. A smile crosses her face as soon as she remembers what happened with Cara the night before. 

A few hours later, Sara finally rolls out of bed quickly slipping on shorts and a shirt that falls down her stomach just as she approaches the little kitchen where she aims to drink a whole ocean sized glass of water. She downs the glass before looking for a bottle of tyloenol. Once she finds it, she fills her cup again and takes the medicine. 

Her head stops by the time she get back with Kale—which is great. What wasn’t so great is the small crowd of people who followed her down the street just a few feet in front of her. Sara kept my head up—like they told her-- and didn’t respond to anything they were yelling. And she even tried her best to go on just like she did every other day when they’re not there. The smile across her face was just a simple bonus for them. 

Upon getting back Sara could smell something being fried. 

Niall was standing at the stove, spatula in one had his other hand reaching for some salt. Eggs, sausage, potatoes, and bacon were all cooking soundly in the pan. He pushes them around a moment or two before he notices Sara is behind him. 

“Harry said you got shit faced last night, and sent me over to make sure you were still alive.”

“Where is he?”

“Lunch with Cordo. Hungry?”

Sara lays her palm on her stomach to check if she is hungry. She is. Sara nods at him. 

“A few minutes more. You like your eggs over easy right?” Sara nod again. 

“Did you have a sound night?” He nods and grunts. 

“You?”

Sara bites her lip as the blush undoubtedly reveals just how sounds her night was. 

“That good?” She nods. “Tell me about her?” 

“I don’t know; she was just—it was nice. She was soft and sweet.” Sara says, but she can feel the tension in the room. She can hear how his question was only that of politeness with a small hint of curiosity. Sara decides to stop speaking as soon as she catch it. “What’d you do?” He shrugs, mutter’s “nothing” and then goes to serve up the two plates. Sara carries them to the table, and Niall grabs some coffee and orange juice. They eat silently. “What are the plans for the day?”

“Umh, we’ve got a reservation for a late lunch before I have to get back here for sound check and then I think the Rolling Stone is coming for an interview.”

After that the breakfast was quiet. Only the scraping of their silver ware scrapping the plates, and the clinking of their glasses as they set them back on the table. 

“What was her name?” He finally asks when he follows Sara to the kitchen so she can begin washing the dishes.

“No. You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“You are though. You’re all quiet, and you’re never quiet, and you said that thing last night, but it didn’t feel like you meant it, and I’m just confused…”

“Sara.”

“I’m more observant than you think.”

The two get to the venue, Harry, and Liam are already there. Niall doesn’t say anything to Sara the ride there, and he won’t look in her direction. She doesn’t talk to him either, but only because she’s waiting for an explanation. Niall doesn’t hold her hand as they walk in. And she knows he only puts his hand on her back so that to the photographers wouldn’t think twice. 

Harry is sitting on a leather couch when they get to the room. Niall stops by craft services for a second before stalking off out of the room. Harry is on his phone so Sara sits next to him and then get’s her own out. She starts responding to emails when Harry starts. 

“It looked like you had a good time last night.” He doesn’t even look away from his phone as he says it. Sara glares at him.

“I did, no thanks to you. Where did you get off to then?” She wonders. 

“It was okay, had to let you meet Cara didn’t I?” His smirks. 

“I feel like I fucked something up, even though Niall was practically pushing me out of the car in front of that house last night. He’s been acting weird.” 

“He made you breakfast right? A proper fry-up?” 

“That is besides the point, he, he won’t look me in the eye anymore, and he won’t talk to me either. Wouldn’t even try to put up and act for the paps when we walked in here a few minutes ago. And now he can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”

 

“Maybe he liiiikes you?” I stare at Harry waiting for him explain. “Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants, it doesn’t understand sexuality sometimes. It sees a great person, and wants to be with them, but-“

“Where the hell do you come up with this shit? He can’t like me I like girls. Giant lesbian right here!” Sara says loudly pointing to herself. 

“You better stop yelling that shit or everyone is going to know your relationship with Niall is a sham, as well as knowing you’re a huge lesbian.” He says in his best impression of her. Then his eyes lock on the door when a group of people with press badges around their necks. Some of them hold big cases, Sara assumes, are filled cameras and other equipment. Niall comes in a few moments later trailing after Jim, his own personal assistant. 

My phone’s alarm goes off, EVENT, blinks on the screen. She unlock my phone and check her= calendar for Harry. 

“The Rolling Stone people are here.”

“I thought it was just an interview?” He asks watching them take out tripods and cameras. 

“It is, mostly, they want to get some segments for some online stuff, as well as some candid’s.” Then her phone rings again, and it’s their manager. 

“All right, so CJ is going to conduct the interview, and she has been briefed about what to talk about and what not to. It’ll be all four boys together, they’re not supposed to talk about you and Niall, but Harry is aloud to speak about you as a friend and assistant. They said it was a nonnegotiable requirement that they at least a get a statement from you. Something about wanting an exclusive with you—and if anymore people ask about getting an exclusive with you I might need to sign you as a client.” He chuckles. “They should be on their way, and once they’re set up round up the boys. Thanks again Sara I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“No prob.” I say, like always. 

Sara gathers all the lads, and puts them on the couch. Sara, ever hoping to get to stay out of something tries to escape before anyone notices she’s gone. 

Sometimes she wonders what the people she used to know think of her and all of this. Sara being here with the number one music act in the world. The dresses and the press and the make up, and the friends, and the rumors. She knows they’d probably think it was cool, or something, but what get’s her, what makes her truly wonder what they’d think about her new life, is what they’d say to her about being gay. 

The woman interviewing them is called CJ. She’s a young, maybe younger, maybe fresh out of college... She wears glasses and has a note pad in her hand, the pencil tucked behind her ear. She drinks about half a bottle of water and one of the photographers snaps a few candid photos of the four sitting there. 

“What are you doing?” She asks me. “Sara right? Could we have you, just,” She points to a gap between Niall and the armrest not nearly big enough for Sara to sit, let alone and “average” sized anyone to sit. “Yeah, just on his lap or something.” Niall smiles and opens his arms to accept her, and she shakes her head refusing to succumb to the embarrassment of re-injuring Niall’s knees. She leans against the armrest instead, even as the boys all try to cram to the other side of the couch. 

Sara slides in, crossing her legs and making herself take up as little space as possible. 

She’s watch this moment for the boys too many times. The long moments between being ready to be interviewed and actually answering the premeditative questions that have nothing to do about the music. A few minutes feels like hours with a camera snapping away, taking a part of you with them. 

“So.” She begins. “Four years ago, when you announce you were going to head out on a hiatus, rumors went wild saying the band was going to break up. Then right around when you said you would be coming back, you had a whole album made and ready to go out to the fans. What has it been like coming back? I can imagine fear and excitement, but what really has it been like?”

“Our fans have always been there for us. We used to say all the time that without them we wouldn’t be anything, and like I think that’s what so great about coming back. They never left, they were rooting for us throughout the whole 18 months we were gone doing our own things. So yeah it’s been exciting, but there was—I think in the back of our minds,” Liam gets slightly distracted by what ever nonsense Louis is up to on the other end of the couch. “Sorry, Louis being a bit distracting.” He says and then dives right back into answering the question. “I think that it was a little scary. We weren’t entirely sure what we coming back to, but the support by all our fans has been amazing and incredible and soo much more than we could have ever asked for.”

“Sara, you’ve been pretty vocal that you were fan first and then met Harry and worked for him and stuff. What was it like as a fan to have this all happen?”

“It was, is completely insane. Really I still have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not some character in someone’s fan fiction.” The break was horrid. Bands like One Direction were meant to make this fans feel this undeniable love from them. We were trained to think we were special and so when they were gone it was like missing a close personal friends. I want to say. “It happened all so fast I think, these guys had all their individual stuff going on so it wasn’t like they were gone gone. I think as a fan I’m glad their back. As a friend, I’m glad that they want to be here doing this.” Sara says just liked she’d been trained. 

“And as a girl friend?” CJ sits on the edge of her seat hoping for the exclusive of the century. 

“It’s umh, I don’t know It’s not like I’m not around Niall, because I am so… And I’m proud he’s doing what he wants to do, he’s happy doing this, making music, so that makes me happy.”

“You started off as just Harry’s dog walker right?”

“She was actually a friend first.” Harry likes to make the distinction. 

“Yeah, I mean yeah.” Sara stutters. 

“So is it weird being a girl friend and someone who very openly works for their team?”

“She is the team really.” Louis speaks up. 

“Is it weird?” CJ asks again like her whole career depends on it. 

“No. Its very easy to separate work and personal stuff.”

“Unlike now.” Niall mutters under his breath. Sara hopes she’s the only one who caught that. There’s an awkward silence. Everyone wants to ask what Niall has said, but no one, not even CJ has the guts to. 

“Are we quite finished?” Sara asks her. “Because I’ve got some other stuff I need to see to while you talk to the lads here about their impressive come back.” She stands. “Nice meeting you.” She says while she shakes her hand. The smile on her face bitter. 

It used to be fun to watch their interviews, see what they really say, but today Sara can only take so much of it. CJ is very off putting, there’s just something about her that is unsettling. It’s like she’s only there to try and find out something very secretive that no one knows about. The annoyed girl waits in one of the dressing rooms where Louise and Caroline are set up. Lou tries to put make up on Sara’s face and Caroline tries to get her into a different outfit. 

“Love I just don’t think that’s photo shoot material.”

When her name started floating around the tabloids. When Niall or Harry, even Louis sometimes would drop a vague mention of Sara to anyone there’d be a massive tizzy among their press team. It was crazy, first she was attacked for being “over weight” and then attacked for being a fan it was pretty dark. Now, there are some attacks about being Niall’s “girlfriend”. When they couldn’t get away from that Harry would stay with her at his house and they’d watch beauty guru videos on youtube until she wasn’t feeling upset anymore.

Sometimes the stuff people were saying could be nice. Blogs from real people, not fame whoring journalists that don’t have backbones, would write about how including a “plus size” girl into their immediate circle of friends was inspiring—and that see “we’re” real people too. Sara liked that part of it. 

“What do you mean photo shoot material?” 

“Didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Tell me what?” But before either of them could answer she’s got her phone out and dialing the Azoffs. “Hi. Jeff. Yeah it’s Sara. Can we talk?” She says exiting the room much to Caroline and Louise’s dismay. “Photo shoot? This isn’t part of my job. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“You’re right, you didn’t but, this is a good opportunity for the band-“

“The band my ass, this is not something we agreed I was to do as Niall’s fake girlfriend. I didn’t sign on for exclusives, or interviews, and I sure as hell did not sign on to do photo shoots.”

“But isn’t that why you work out with Harry, to get into shape?”

“Working out with Harry is mine and his business. Why the fuck would you assume it was for that?” She asks—even though she knows why. 

If this were a movie, Sara’s character, having just lost a bunch of weight would also get a makeover which would cause ever one she came in contact with to fall at her feet. She would be “beautiful” now that she doesn’t look like what she did. Sara’s lost maybe twenty pounds, she doesn’t know, it isn’t about that. But people notice and then people decide you are a better version of yourself than before because before she wasn’t ‘worth” the attention. 

“I will not do this. This is where I draw the line. I’m Harry’s assistant—friend at best who doesn’t deserve to have the spotlight shone on me. I am nothing. That is not my fight.” She’s angry—livid actually. So angry she doesn’t give Jeff Azoff a chance to respond before she hands up the phone. Her feet thump hard on the thin carpeting of the hall until she gets to Niall’s dressing room. 

The couch sinks underneath her weight and her body slumps forward. Sara’s shaking hands catch her hot face as she dissolves into tears. Her phone rings couple times but she makes no effort to see who it is. She does, however, have the energy to turn it off and let it drop to the floor. Eventually her body falls to the side and her legs curl up onto the cushions. She cry until she’s reduced to empty eyes and an empty mind. Sleep falls over her quick. She doesn’t know how long she sleeps or how long she’s been away.

 

It’s the door clicking shut that wakes her up. 

Slowly she sits up. Niall sits in the chair adjacent to the couch, he’s slumped back, his eyes focused on his phone in between his hands resting on his stomach. He doesn’t say anything. 

“Sorry about earlier…”

Niall doesn’t say anything until he tells her that if she wants she could stay on his couch for the rest of the night. And either he tells everyone to leave her alone, or he doesn’t let anyone know where shes at because no one comes for her. 

That night, Sara goes to her bunk on the bus before the show even begins. She doesn’t fall asleep for a couple hours until after she hears the boys all ask Niall what’s wrong with her. The bus begins it’s trek to the next city, four hours away. The gentle sway of it lulls her back to sleep. 

They let her sleep through the night and much of the next morning. She’s not sure when they arrived at the next hotel, but she’s grateful the boys let her sleep. Everyone let her sleep. It’s midday when she exits her bunk, the bus is empty and quiet—sort of peaceful. She takes a few deep breaths relishing in it. Her new Iphone sits on the counter, not turned on, but plugged in. Sara has to dare herself to turn it on, and once it’s awake she can see several hundred emails, calls, and texts. She deletes them all without checking them and go to the calendar to check where she’s supposed to be with Harry. 

Sara calls him on her way into the hotel. She smiles choosing to forget about yesterday. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks skipping any greeting. 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry, just needed a few minutes to myself.”

“A few minutes, Sara, you’ve been MIA since the interview yesterday. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Security stops her but she’s able to flash her badge and they let her through. “Just calling to check that you’re on your way to that thing you wanted to do here. You asked me to book a beer tasting remember?”

“I do, you were supposed to come with me. Don’t worry about it, Niall’s here.”

“Good okay well I’m headed into the hotel for a bit, then I guess I’ll meet you all at the arena.” Harry doesn’t check triple check to make sure she’s okay. And he doesn’t try to talk about the conversation she had with his manager. “We’ll talk later yeah? Alright, have fun with Niall, don’t get too drunk.” 

“Love you Sara.”

“Love you too.”

After they hang up she get a text from him confirming they will talk. She sends back a thumbs up emoji. When she gets to my room she opens the room service menu to see what she can make Harry pay for. Since she’s not footing the bill I order a lot. A little of this, some of that. A bite here and there. Stuff she’s not eaten in months because she’s been on tour. 

Bathing is her next priority, so she finds a lush bath bomb in my suitcase and drop it into the water to watch it fizz into something beautiful. The room fills with lavender as she sinks into the hot water. He muscles ache from stress. Sara dips my head under the water and just sit. I don’t think about anything, or anyone. I don’t plan how I’m going to explain to Harry what happened. I don’t think about what will happen with my job, I just sit. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep yet again. 

A while later her phone wakes her up with its incessant ringing. She’s careful not slip getting out of the tub to get to it. 

“Hi. Sara here.” She answer without checking caller id. 

“Sara, hey.”

“Niall. What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, umh—“ he clears his throat. “I’m fine. Hey, look where are you?” He all wonders aloud. “Harry was saying you were coming to show tonight… didn’t know where you’d gotten off to…”

“Oh shit. Sorry. Was just in the bath. Give me ten minutes I’ll be there.” She says while pulling the phone away from her face to check the time. They hang up and she goes to the tub to pull the stopper out so the water can drain. The sparkles and colors swirl down. 

She doesn’t have time to properly bathe so Sara is forced to rush into some jeans and tie her hair up in a messy pony tail. There’s a car waiting outside the hotel for her which whisks her away like a horse drawn carriage. The car drives into a garage and a screen sized door shuts behind it. Niall’s personal security guy, Kyle, is waiting by a door, he charges to Sara and helps guide her to the boys dressing room. 

Harry is the first to see Sara. He takes her in his long arms, he wraps her up in them. His face ducking into her neck while his hands rubs her back. He holds her tight, and she holds him back. They stand there for a while before anyone says anything. When he lets goo he kisses her cheek and then temple and then looks her over to make sure I’m okay. 

“God, mom. I’m fine.” Sara says laughing. He pulls her under one his arms to wrap her under it. She lets her arms drift to his waist and doesn’t let go. 

“Gave us quite a fright.” Louis says, and Liam walks passed, he gives her a peck on the cheek. Niall doesn’t look away from me. He doesn’t say anything either. 

“Give us a minute will you?” Sara asks patting Harry’s stomach. Liam pulls Harry out of the room. Niall leans against the vanity, crossing his feet and arms in front of him. “Niall.”

“I swear we didn’t know anything about yesterday.” 

“That’s not what I want to talk about.” He looks down. “Look.”

“I get it okay. You don’t like blokes. It’s fine, I’m just being stupid.” Sara steps forward. 

“Hey, you’re not being stupid, who wouldn’t fall in love with me.” He chuckles and then looks up to see Sara’s smirk. 

“You sure you don’t like blokes?”

“Positive… If I did though—I’d soooo choose you.” She kisses his cheek and he opens his arms to hug her. She hugs him back with everything she’s got. “I do love you Ni.”

“Love you too…” Sara chooses not to hear how disappointed he is. 

“Good?”

“Good.” They say. He still holds her hand as they walk to the area the boys stand just before getting on stage. 

“Good luck lads.” Sara yells over the screams of the audience. They put their hands in and stare at each other before shouting something and then getting in their spot to go out on stage. 

The concert is loud. It’s loud and good. Sara sits on a couch placed just behind the stage to watch. Kale sits at her feet his head on his paws. And together they watch the boys perform. Sara can almost hear the crowd singing along just as loud as she can hear the boys from her nook in the back stage area. Sara sings along too. The boy’s usual four song encore turns into a six and the crowd goes wild for it. She’s just as wired as the rest of them as they filter off stage. They’re meant to run out to the cars that brought them over so they can make it back to the hotel in peace. The boys have waters they take with them. Niall takes Sara’s hand again as they jog out to one of the black SUVs. 

The crew stays in town for a couple days, so we’re taken back to the hotel. The boys follow her to Sara’s room without question. Louis and Liam stay back, knowing this isn’t their fight, but also knowing they deserve an explanation. Harry is closest to Sara, and Niall is just behind him. Good moods gone. 

“Guys, it’s really no big deal.”

“What happened with Jeff?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Why did he call me then?” 

“He called you?”

“I thought you were going to tell us what happened.” Harry sounds hard and cold. His voice is rough from the concert. She doesn’t know why she tries to keep it from them, they deserve to know, and it’s not like it hasn’t happened to them before either. 

“Apparently I was supposed to be in your photo shoot, I didn’t know that until yesterday and I didn’t want to be in it so I said I wouldn’t.” They keep confused faces so Sara starts from the beginning. Start to finish. Including the panic attack, including falling asleep, including Niall staying with her until she went on the bus. “So it just felt like a lot, you know? I can’t imagine what you guys feel like after having experienced that for so long. I just can’t do it like you guys. I don’t want to loose myself in it. I’m not strong enough.” She says this all without the threat of crying—she can’t believe it. 

Harry takes her in his arms. And then Niall wraps his arms around them. Louis joins and then at last Liam. 

“Harry?” Sara ask. 

“What is it?”

“Do you remember what you said when you were asking me to come on tour with you? About getting a break whenever I need?”

“Yes, is that what you want? Do you need to go home?” Sara nods, and it’s then that her lip quivers. “I’ll book a flight back to LA for the morning if you want?”

“No. I think I need to go home home.” It comes out as more of a whine. 

“To Michigan?” Niall asks. 

Her nervous breakdown comes at the perfect time, because after this week’s full schedule of press and shows, they’re given a break. A week long break to fly where ever they want and do what ever they need. 

Normally Sara would book a plane ticket for Harry and Kale to go back to Holmes Chapel or even London to check on some business things there. Instead, the next day Harry has surprised Sara with two tickets back to Michigan. And he’s also decided to board Kale for the week so they don’t have to worry about him. 

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m coming back with you.”

“But why?”

“You never talk about your family or the friends you had, it’s like you didn’t exist before meeting me… But I know you did and I want to see it.”

Michigan is a lot of highway with farms on either side. Towns separated by fields lined with thin trees. Every other corn field there is also a Christmas tree field. Harry is supremely underwhelmed as he drives them south from Grand Rapids. 

They go to the hotel once we first arrive. Sara has another panic attack in the bathroom under the guise of a shower, so Harry doesn’t know anything about it. She kills time on our way into town to stop for coffee and then for food and then she convinces Harry they need to stop for gas. When they finally land on her old street, she make him drive past the house several times before he figures out she’s still stalling and we pull into the driveway. 

“No one is home.” She says without making a move to get out of the car. 

“Sara, if you don’t want to see them.”

“I don’t.” Sara says in a rush. He doesn’t ask questions before pulling out of the driveway and driving back towards the hotel while she stares out the window morosely. 

 

Harry had hoped Sara would stay with her family. Harry was wrong, and even though she told him she would not, could not stay with them, he insisted only booking one room. She had told him she didn’t want to stay in the house with her parents alone, let alone leave him alone in a hotel. 

“You act like you can’t leave me alone.”

“You are the one who asked me to live with you because you didn’t like being alone.” Harry didn’t have anything to say to that. So, they share the hotel room. A king sized bed to share with an en suite and kitchenette, with an extra room for living space. It’s cozy, it’s nice. 

The hotel lobby person greets them with enthusiasm and they are escorted to their room even though Sara told them they didn’t want it. At the door she slip her key into the reader and wait for the door to unlock.

Disappointment is inevitable if Sara doesn’t look at the room service menu when she first arrives. Even though they already spent some time in the room before they went to “visit” her parents, she didn’t have time to check anything other than the shower out. So she stands, leaning on the counter in the kitchenette looking over entrees and cocktails. 

“Let’s get fucked up.” Sara says without looking up from the menu. 

Harry pauses like he wants to say, “I don’t think that’s a good idea”, but he doesn’t and she knows he won’t. They start with some wine that tastes like shit, Harry keeps sipping it while Sara chooses to move onto some vodka shots. It’s bitterly sharp, but after seven shots she can’t taste it anymore. Harry pours her a glass of water for her to drink. She’s drunk, so after she gulps it down she squints her eyes and sighs loudly like it burns. Tequila comes next Sara makes margaritas clumsily with the blender supplied by the hotel and it’s pretty much the best thing she’s ever tasted.

Harry has forgone trying to stay sober for Sara, he matches her margarita for margarita and pretty soon he’s just as sloppy as her. 

“Harry-“ She starts for the third time. “Harry, what if—what if we weren’t gay.”

“What are you getting at?” They’re leaning on each other and the foot of the bed to keep them upright. 

“Like, I told Niall that if I weren’t a lesbian I’d date him.”

“Once I told him I wished he was gay so I could date him.” Sara gasps and laughs and then chokes. 

“YOU have a crush on Niall?”

“So do you!” He yells in defense.

“But I’m not the one who isn’t secretly not dating him.” They both get confuse and laugh and drink some more. A few hours pass they’ve slowed down considerably and now they lay in the king sized bed that we moved over by the balcony to look out at the stars. 

“Did Cara bring you home the other night?” He asks, part of her wants to think they’ve sobered up some, but they’re still finishing the wine so she doesn’t think so. 

“You mean after the after party?”

“Yeah, I saw you talking with Kendall Jenner, and then you disappeared.”

“She.” I point at him. “Was fun. But, Cara said you said something to her about me, so… I went home with her.” He sits up fast, too fast and he falls back covering his eyes. Sara swallows the last of the wine. “But don’t tell her you know because she asked me not to tell you that I went home with her…”

A bit later Harrys spinning the bottle and they’re singing happily like they’re around a campfire.

“I said maybeeeeee, ya gonna be the one that saves meeeeeee, and after alllllllllll- you’re my wonderwall.” Sara starts to sing to Harry while she thinks about how much she truly loves him. She thinks maybe if they weren’t gay, maybe she could fix something up between him and Niall and her. “Harry, did I ever tell you that before I figured out I was gay I wanted to marry you?”

All Harry does is laugh. And then she laughs with him. And then he continues the song. 

“You know, I’ve been trying to learn that song. Niall’s been trying to teach me and stuff like, and I really want to play it on stage because it’s a classic.”

“Such a classic.” 

“It would be so great. Everyone would think we’d written it, but we haven’t.!”

“That Noel would have your head.” Sara cackles. 

“He doesn’t deserve that song!”

“You think you could write something better?”

“I have! Olivia innit?” Harry and Sara are hysterical until Harry jumps up and stumbles over to one the waste basket next to the desk and gets sick into it. She tries to move but she can’t. 

“Sorry Harry,” She says dropping the bottle onto the bed next to me. “I can’t feel my legs or else I would come hold your hair.” Then she doesn’t remember anything else. 

Waking up is a bitch. Mostly because the bed is still half outside and it’s pissing rain, but the sun is still out so it’s shining bright into Sara’s eyes as she turns over to find a new comfortable spot. A coolness settles over her as she rolls over again, then again to get as far away from the sun as possibly and as she rolls, the bed becomes no more, and so she falls on to the ground. She groans after the thump—her limps waking up slowly. Her morning legs are groggy while she crawls over to the bathroom as fast as her body will allow-- retching the whole way. 

Harry’s asleep next to the toilet which it already pretty full of his own sick. Sara groans annoyed, which makes Harry stir. Luckily she has a little decency left to which she uses to flush down Harry’s sick before getting sick into it herself. When Harry hears her whinning intot he toilet, he kneels behind, her rubbing her back and holding her hair. 

“I feel great.” He says, mocking her. 

“You can’t be.” Sara stares back at him as they wait for maintenance. The mattress on their bed is ruined thanks to the wonderfully unpredictable weather and their drunken escapades. Harry was able to push the bed back into the room, before the rain stated making puddles in the carpet. “This damage is on me okay, let me pay for it.”

“You can’t afford it.”

“Says who?”

“Me, the person that signs your checks…. Come on Sara. I’m pretty sure it was my idea anyway.”

“No. I can promise you it was mine. I remember we were sitting in the chairs and we my head was slung back and I was like ‘I wish we could move the bed out here so I don’t have to break my neck,”” and the then you were all like, “could just lay on the ground,” and then I told you we couldn’t because of your back. So then I pushed it over there.” Harry takes a moment to think it through. 

“Oh. You’re right, but I still think I should pay for it. The rooms in my name, so they’re going to charge me anyway.” Harry’s right, but that doesn’t stop Sara from crossing her arms and huffing like a child. Coincidentally, Harry is taking care of her like she is a child just because her hangover’s are always worse. 

“You shouldn’t let me drink.” She yells to him with her head inside the toilet. The maintenance people had come and gone, giving Harry the bill and were on their way without so much as a look of annoyance despite what they had done. 

It takes hours for the queasiness to subside and even then Sara’s not sure she’ll feel okay enough to do anything or show Harry anything. But she showers and change anyway. Harry has a plate of toast waiting on the counter when Sara get’s out of the bathroom. 

“You should be visiting your mom.” 

“So should you.” 

“Does your mom know you’re gay?” He nods sipping at a cup of tea. “Is she cool with it?” He nods hesitantly. Harry doesn’t say anything more. The relationship he has with his mom is different than what she had with mine. Yeah she did that unconditional love thing, Sara supposes, but things changed when she went to college for English. 

“You went with Cara back to hers?” He asks again, sensing Sara’s lack of ease in the subject present. The blush that takes over Sara’s body raises my core temperature at least ten whole degrees. She nods afraid her mouth with betray her more. “How was it?” She refuses to look at him in the eyes. “Come on I’m in the mood to gossip as weird as it is talking about a friend, I want to know the detail… was she good to you?”

“You’re incredible.”

“Was it your first time?”

“Is it that obvious? I mean I’ve had crushes and stuff, but it never turned into anything. I’ve—I’ve never met anyone who felt the same way.” Sara gives in knowing Harry won’t quit until he knows. 

“She’s nice isn’t she? Cara…”

“She is. Funny too.”

“Has she texted you yet?” Sara smiles but she shakes her head. 

“No. She never got my number. But nothing could happen right? I mean, I’m “with” Niall… Plus I mean, I should be using my spare time to write instead of like fall in lo- have a realtionship…”

“Sara, did you know I’ve never actual read anything you’ve written?” He changes the subject again, however painful that something hangs in the air between them, either way she’s glad for it—but he changes it to something else she’s been actively avoiding, so the relief margin isn’t by much. 

“There’s a reason for that.”

“And what would that reason be? I’m your best friend…”

Truth is, Sara hasn’t written a single thing since moving to LA. She hasn’t had enough time or energy or enough coherent thoughts to even think about putting together a story or a poem. So much has happened, so much has changed—she just doesn’t know where to begin.

“Yes, you are, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Sara.”

“Harry.”

“You have these walls right, big tall walls, and at first I thought it made you more interesting. But I also thought maybe one day you’d be able to open and let me through those walls—“

“I’m a guarded person.”

“I just thought maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to let me in.” Sara’s head falls back in between her shoulder blades and she sighs-- loudly. 

“Harry, I’ve never told anyone I was gay before I told you. I never let anyone know anything that’s going on in my head. And I love you dearly, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping stuff from you, but—“ She interrupts herself. Why can’t I just tell him the truth—why do I have to keep so much from him? “I haven’t shown you anything because I haven’t written anything.”

What fills the room is the kind of silence that overtakes someone’s whole body when they come out to someone else. When time stops and the air washes out of your lungs and you’re lifting the whole world on your shoulders. Harry has left his mouth open and now he won’t make eye contact. 

“I try so hard to knock out a poem or even just a sentence and nothing comes out. I can’t think of anything. Its writers block to the tenth degree—but it’s also more than that. It feels like I’m mute. It feels like my hands are tied. Because the words they’re right there and I can feel them but when push comes to shove I can’t put it to paper.” He sits there and listens- he always listens. “I feel like you’re always listening to my sob story.” Sara says. “I’m always breaking down, I’m like a used car. I don’t think you can fix me.” She says honestly. 

It’s been there. This underlying sense of him trying to pick up her pieces. He gave her the job, and then let her live in his house to save her from being homeless. Then she gets promoted, and then she get to go on tour. Now he’s trying to get her to reconnect with her family.

“I can’t fix you. Not that you need fixing. I just want to help.”

“I know Harry, sometimes I can’t stand it.” He looks away, and furrows his brow like Sara’s wounded him. “I just mean, that you’re so kind to me, and I don’t deserve it.” 

“Sara, have I ever told you that you are my best friend. Like, I’ve met some many people doing this, and you’re the only person who doesn’t do what I do, but understands what I do in such a way that I’ve only ever felt from mum or Gemma. You--” Sara gives him a weak smile. “You’re like—you’re like the only constant person in my life—sometimes I get scared the boys will up and leave me, but this, our friendship, this is---“ He’s not sure how he wants to say it. “It’s like we’re married, but obviously we’re not. But like it’s the kind of thing outside of family that will last forever—despite being a fan and stuff—I know you like me for who I am.”

Sara’s over whelmed with love for Harry. She’s never felt so loved, or understood or anything. 

“I do Harry. You’re the closest I’ve ever come to having a real brother, and I love you for it.” Sara falls into his arms, her head on his chest. “Harry, if we’re both not married by forty will you be my backup?” He lets out a laugh that’s light and warm at the same time. Fondness oozing out. They fall asleep like that, the tv left on, and above all the covers. 

The next day Sara wakes Harry as she slips on her sneakers. 

“Going out?”

“Just to the gym, need to sweat out the alcohol.” He yawns and asks to join her to which she nods. Their work outs turn into a race to see who can get to the five miles fastest. I beat him by seven seconds. We shower and eat breakfast and then Harry asks me what I want to do for the day. 

“This was a bad idea.” Sara says as we roll up to the house. Both cars are in the driveway, and the blinds are drawn open and a cat, Sara’s cat, sits in the window sill. “I can’t do this.”

“We don’t have to.”

“I mean if they know anything about anything I’m sure they know what I’m okay.”

“They should hear it from you.”

“They should—” but she stops herself. They’re her parents—she can’t speak ill of them. Harry and Sara sit for a minute. The cat meows at them. Air escapes her and her mind goes blank. She doesn’t remember how she gets to the door, let alone knocked, and she certainly has no clue as to how she’s sitting in the living room with Harry next to her, and across from her parents. 

“This is a lovely home.” Harry says. Sara stays quiet while she looks around. They painted. And furniture has been moved around, looks like they got a new couch. And, perhaps what Sara notices above all, it doesn’t smell like cigarette smoke. 

“How’s LA?” Sandy, Sara’s mom asks. 

“Sunny.” Sara says as she stares unblinking at the new mirror behind them. Course all this “new” stuff could be old, just Sara wasn’t around much while she was in college, working two jobs and a full time student took away any time that she could have used to be bored. “You’ve changed the house.” She says next. 

“Yeah, had sometime on our hands.” Dad says. Sara’s dad told Harry his name was Johnathan, even though Sara never heard anyone ever call him that, not even her mom, not even his mom. 

“Looks nice.” Harry says. 

“Thanks. Care to introduce us to your friend?” Sandy asks, Sara mumbled and introduction after her parents invited them in, but it seems Sandy is not understanding the term “friend”. The grip Sara has of Harry’s hand get’s a little tighter, Harry rings imprinting between her fingers. A stiff silence takes over and Sara finds herself unable to breathe again. 

“I’m Harry, a friend of Sara’s from LA, she walks my dog when she can and helps me keep busy.” He smiles at them. “She’s really special.” 

“Is this that boy you’ve been roaming around town with?”

“In LA?” Sara supposes they do know something about something. It never crossed her mind that they would actually know this about her though. When she cut ties with them, she never expected them to be that heart broken, let alone try to keep tabs on her. 

“Yes. Saw you holding that blonde boy’s hand, Everyone’s always asking about you.”

“Saw you on that magazine the other day.” Sara’s dad picks up a tabloid from the table next to him. Sara sees a stack of them just behind her father. 

“That’s Niall, this is Harry. Niall is also a friend.” The look they give her is of quiet disapproval. She tries to brush it off despite wondering why they keep tabs if they still don’t approve. “Yeah, so Harry and I were just on break from work and stuff, so we thought we might stop by and say hello because I can do that now, so—hello. Glad to see you’re doing well. Umh-- I think we should really be on our way.” Sara is already standing and looking for her coat and phone—things she had thought she brought in with her but left in the car so she wouldn’t have any distractions. Sara turns to Harry. “Ready? Good.” He stays sitting as she makes her way out of the room. She stops in the kitchen near the door waiting for Harry. Sara hears some mutterings and then he joins her. 

“Ready?” He asks. And they leave. That night at the hotel, Sara tells him she wants to be alone, she doesn’t argue so she heads out into the town. It takes her a few blocks to get her bearings. And once she does Sara heads right for her favorite café that she spent hours in a day studying and writing. She orders a blueberry cream cheese croissant and a caramel latte. She eats and drinks them up before they close about twenty minutes alter. Not disappointed she starts off to her second favorite café. This is the café she liked to go the night before bug exams because she could stay awake by ordering more coffee all night. She mimics her old college days by ordering coffee after coffee. 

It’s after 2am when Sara makes it back to the room via a cab. The man in the lobby who has been so insistent in helping doesn’t blink twice when she walks past. And when she gets inside the room Harry doesn’t ask any questions. But that’s mostly because he’s tucked away in bed, probably asleep. 

Wired, she sits next to him, waiting for him to feel the dip in the mattress. He wakes slowly, and it’s only when he turns that she sees an open book next to him. 

“Hi, just wanted to let you know I’m back.” She kisses his cheek. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to stay up for a bit longer.”

“You sure?” She nods. 

“Sleep tight.”

Sara ends up in the little kitchenette far from where the bed is. The light over the stove is just dim enough to still allow Sara to see. My journal rests on the granite of the counter. I spend a while longer with my hands in my lap, almost afraid to open it. There ae two pens next to the leather bound paper. 

She takes one deep breath, and then another. Her hands rest on the strap around the the leather. She breathes carefully, slowly. And then suddenly the book is open and the pen is in her hand and she’s scribbling down every thoughtful thought that comes to mind. 

shackles, handcuffed. Bound to  
you. You this thing with  
a potent roar. A Roar so violating  
so ruthless I cower  
and bow to kiss your feet.  
Lay down my arms, and forfeit  
any power I may have defended.

Story of boy meets girl  
friends, to lovers  
friends to  
best friends.  
Holding each other up,  
holding on tight. Holding on. 

What comes next is a two more stanzas and a refrain, followed by a final stanza. Then she’s flipping the page and starting over. She starts writing poems like that’s all she knows how to do. The poems turn into small stories full over everything she’s ever hoped she could do. She throws her talents at the wall letting what sticks stay and moving on quickly if something doesn’t quick work. She has rhythms and rhymes flowing out of her like she’s a google search. She fills the leather bound journal with the stubborn words that had once refused to be written down. The journal Harry had given her after she told him she was a writer. The words the drench the pages and Sara thinks it’s the most wonderful feeling when her hand cramps up. 

It’s exciting. It’s exhilarating. 

Sara gets to reading them over and typing out revised versions before Harry wakes again with the sun. Sara jumps and yells when his hand touches her back. 

“Have you been up all night?” Sara makes no effort to tear her focus away from the line in front of her. He notices and waits for her to finish. Except it takes longer than he expects so he moves onto making some coffee. 

Sara, still staring at her lap top, lets out a sigh and crack my neck and roll my shoulders. The tension gone. 

“Good morning dearest Harry.” Sara says. 

“Good Morning love.”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I’ve written things. I stayed up all night. Working on my writing. There’s some poems and stories, and I want to know what you think.” She says. He hands her a cup of coffee and she takes a sip despite wanting to crawl back into bed. She waits for him to stare over her shoulder at the screen in front of her. 

The phone in the room rings instead. Harry doesn’t move to get it. So Sara does, since that’s kind of her job…. She pads over to the night stand. A smile still covering her face. There’s a girl on the other end, she asks if Harry is there. 

“May I ask who is calling?” She barely gets the words out before the girl hangs up. Sara’s brow furrows. She looks back to Harry, who is still sitting where she just was, the screen saver bouncing on the edges of the screen. “Please Harry. I want to know what you think.” Sara reaches out wake the computer up. “It fine if you don’t want to, I’m sure its shit anyway.” Sara shuts the laptop and turns to walk away. This get’s Harry attention. And yet he still doesn’t say anything. 

“Sara, of course I want to read your stuff, and I’m proud—don’t get me wrong. So unbelievingly proud.”

“Really?” He say’s “of course”, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more happy in my life. 

“How about you go for a nap and then I’ll wake you when I get back from the gym?” He’s grabbed his shoes from their spot next to the dresser and begun lacing them onto his feet. 

“No, I don’t want to sleep.” Then Sara takes a moment to really think about it. “Okay, maybe I do want sleep, but if I sleep now, I’ll be up all night again so we should run 

So I don’t. We go to the gym together. He chooses the treadmill and Sara takes one of the stationary bikes. They each pop some earbuds in their ears and enjoy the sweat. Sara’s legs pedal hard while he runs fast. Both of them not really ignoring each other, just enjoying the burn. 

“Ten miles today. You?” Harry asks when the hour is up. 

“Seventeen.” They fist bump and head back up to the room where they race to see who can get the shower first. Harry wins only because he heads straight for the bathroom without grabbing any clothes or toiletries first. 

Waiting, Sara sits on the couch flipping through the free channels. Nothing good is on—just a ping pong match between a couple guys from Russia, she keeps it on the channel while she goes to her suit case to pick out some clothes for the day. The match is close, Sara can’t understand what the commentators are saying, but they keep getting louder and louder, and the time on the clock begins to run out. A buzzer sounds and one of the guys wins. As the buzzer sounds, distracted by the match, she almost doesn’t notice her phone ringing loud on the floor where she set it down. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Sara? This is Cate. I work for One Direction in part of the writing division. Well, looking over your profile it says you’re a graduate of Michigan University with a creative writing degree, and Harry say’s you’re quite the writer and we were just wondering if you would be interested in sending in a small sample of your work to get a feel of the stuff you’re into. We’re looking for more writers to help with the next album” 

 

“Harry!” Sara yells while stomping over the bathroom door. “Sorry about that. “ She says remember the call with Cate is still going. “Umh, let me just uhh speak to your boss and I’ll get right back to you.” Sara slams the red “end call” button. “The. Fuck.” She yells opening the bathroom door with a cloud of steam bursting out. He was singing a nice Ed Sheeran tune but having burst through the door he’s in a tizzy. He pokes his head out from the curtain. “You called the people that organize your writing sessions?”

“Can I please just—“ He groans, but it almost more of a moan…

“No. Wait, are you wanking? God dammit Harry.” Sara huffs and stumbles out of the cloudy bathroom. “I need to talk to you.” She says solemnly before shutting the door quietly behind her. 

He does rush. When he comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist he comes and sits with me careful to keep the towel closed around him.

“I was thinking maybe, if you were writing again, then maybe you might like to have that as job—you know. Like, you go on and on about how you’re a writer and I still want you in my life.”

“I write fiction.” 

“Not last night, and you never said that before. You said you were a writer and a writer to me is someone who writes poems and songs.”

“When I said that I thought maybe what I wrote could be songs, I’m not sure what I was thinking—they’re just poems.”

“But—“

“I can’t believe you called to try to get me another job. Harry do you not understand?”

“I’m not sure I do.” He stands abruptly and goes to his suitcase spilling on the floor to pull out a shirt, pants, and jeans. Then he stalks back over the bathroom and slams the door behind him. 

Sara doesn’t wait for him to come out of there. She shoves her journal in her bag and leave again. Back at the coffee shop that stays open twenty-four hours, she orders my coffee without room for cream and saunter over to a table in the corner. On the table, she lines the journal and phone next to each other. She waits. 

Harry doesn’t call, and Sara doesn’t have the guts to call him. 

He’s just so kind. Kind enough to give her all the opportunities she’s dreamed up. A house, and a job that allows her to travel, a job seemingly unearned. He gives her a place she can call home. Harry just wants the best for me, she tells herself. He listens when she complains and he tries to make things right. 

Sara doesn’t know how she could be so daft as to be angry with him for this opportunity. An opportunity of a life time. An opportunity so spectacular it would be a shame to waste. 

“I think I majorly fucked up.”

“Sara, what’s the matter?” She called Niall because he’s who she calls when she’s fucked up, when she needs to talk to someone when Harry isn’t around. He picks up after the first ring. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I guess. Just I think I fucked up with Harry.” She tells him what Harry did, and how she reacted and then how Harry reacted to how she reacted. 

“He sees a greatness in you, that you don’t see in yourself.” He says. “We all do, actually.” He waits for a response but Sara doesn’t know what to say. “You’re a writer, so he’s trying to open up a field so you can write.”

“It’s more than though, isn’t it?”

“Does it have to be?”

“What if I’m no good?”

What if I’m no good? What if I reflect badly on him, and he gets the flack for picking out such a shitty writer? What if I’m not the kind of writer they’re looking for? What if I fuck up and everyone blames him for it because he’s the one that thought I might talent? The silence asks the questions for me. It seeps our of my breaths. 

Niall is quiet. His breathing is even. He’s calm. The coffee shop suddenly get’s louder as a cup of hot coffee falls into someone’s lap. 

“Talk to Harry, he’ll understand.”

“Miss you.”

“Miss you too. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

Sara hangs up and gives herself another moment to put herself back together. Before she can call Harry she unwraps her journal to begin writing something else. It’s a couple hours before she looks up again. Her cup has been empty for a while, longer than she cares to admit. When she looks out the window the sun is setting. She texts Harry, instead of calling, thinking perhaps he can’t yell at her for her foolishness. She asks if she can call him. He doesn’t text back until she’s just on the cusp of a panic attack. 

“Harry,” She says to his voicemail. “Who knows if you’ll actually listen, but I’m sorry okay? I’m on my way back to the hotel. I want to talk.”

Outside she figures it would take to long to call a cab—Kalamazoo is “big” but not that big. Sara starts walking north, but the stride she sets is practically running. So, she starts to run after a block or two, trying to weave in and out of people and across streets to avoid getting hit. She’s out of breath breath, completely wheezing when she makes it back to the hotel, but she makes it. 

She’s forced to pound of the door when she realizes she never grabbed a key to get back in. Sara knocks furiously, pounding hopping Harry is inside. When he doesn’t make it to the door she tries calling him, and when he doesn’t answer, she doesn’t stop trying. Sara pounds a little harder before the people in the room next to them peak out of their door and give her a dirty look. 

“Harry. Please.” She whispers, her voice raw.

She checks for her room key again. But alas it’s still not there, drained—she sits leaning against the door hoping Harry is on his way back. It takes him hours and by then she’s already nodded off. 

“Sara? Shit.” He kneels in front of her, setting his paper bag at her feet. He gently shakes her to wake up. 

“Harry!” She launches herself forward, falling into him to wrap her arms around him tight. “I’m sorry. I’m so grateful for all that you’ve done for me, and I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. I love you and I can’t believe how far you’d go to help me.” 

Sara tucks her sobs into his neck. He holds her just as tight. 

“I need to learn sometimes my connections are just that, my own. And as much as I love taking care of you, I know you can take care of yourself.”

“But I don’t know how to take care of myself. I don’t know how to talk to people. I don’t know how to ask for the things you offer readily. I don’t know how to ask for the things I need.” She falls into him a little more and it pushes him off balance, tipping us over on the other rough carpeting of the hallway. They lay comfortably for a while before the elevator dings bringing them back to reality. 

“We should get inside.” He says. She’s laying on top of him, her head on his chest, his arm around her back. 

Sara stands up above him and holds out her hand that he holds tight. She pulls him up with little difficulty and she heads into the room, Harry in tow. 

“Niall said you called him.”

“I did. Been talking with him much?” He looks away from her, ignoring her obvious poke. “How’s he been?” Harry won’t answer. He stalks off to the kitchen to look in the little fridge even though it’s empty. She back tracks a moment, unsure if she’s gone too far or she’s hit something within him that’s too much. “Are we good? Will you look at my poems and tell me what you think?”

“You’re the one that went to UNI for four years. You have a bloody degree!” He exclaims while also letting out a laugh. 

“But you’re the one that has a real life grown up job writing.”

He doesn’t skip a beat before looping his arm around hers. 

“You know as well as I do, this happened by chance.” He kisses her temple. “Now, where’s this leather bound journal of yours and read what your soul is saying.”

Sara shakes her head and snickers. She slides the journal across the granite towards him. She doesn’t let go of it until he holds it under his palms. He opens it as gingerly as he knows how, and presses the pages open. His eyes scan the page and he clears his throat. 

Her heart stops and then beats quicker. When whites of his eyes moving from side to side. He nods a bit. Takes a few breaths. He smirks, and giggles. His pupils drift up without moving his head. 

“Okay, I’m going to read this now.” He says. 

“Anytime now love…” Sara shakes her head and smiles nonetheless. He takes the book and stumbles over to the couch. He falls nearly on his side; he leans on his elbow with the book open next to him. She watches as he focuses his eyes and begins to really scan the page. Her lip finds a home between her teeth. 

She tries to monitor her breathing while he sits in silence. Not a sigh or grunt, no chuckles, no anything. He’s as stoic as a statue. She tries to reoccupy her time with checking her work email to see if anything needs her attention this second. Nothing does, or rather a few do, but she can’t focus long enough to type any sort of reply, so she doesn’t. She lets go of her ohone and slides it away, and in a matter of milliseconds she reaches over to pick it back up. Thumbs hover of the the keyboard in attempt to write something to Kate. All she can come up with is a question: Do you want to read some recent stuff, or stuff I have from college? 

Pacing around the kitchen makes her dizzy so she stops to look in the mini fridge, even though it’s still empty. Harry takes so long Sara contemplates getting out the little vodkas the housekeeping service restocked the door of the fridge with. Sara takes another lap around the kitchen and get one of the little glass vials out.

“Would you please just sit down. You’re making me nervous.” Harry calls. He’s on the couch and there isn’t another chair so she lifts herself up and sit on top the counter, next to the little vodkas. 

Sara can’t find the will to sit still so in her effort to put the little bottle of vodka away she decides they need some food. She slips out of the door unnoticed and walks over to a little local café. She picks up a couple premade sandwiches along with a few bottles of drinks and some salads to go with it. And then because she knows Harry likes to take his time Sara weave up and down the isles looking at everything before she goes back. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you filled this thing up.” Harry says when I walk in. Then he goes back to reading. He’s got a pencil in his hand. She sees it, and stops still, he notices and looks up from the book a few moments later. “I didn’t know if you would mind so, I just wrote a few comments in the margins so I wouldn’t forget, we can erase them later.” He swears. Sara nods once.

She puts the food into the fridge. He sets the book down and stares at it. Shuts it even more gentler than when he opened it. Treating it as more than precious. His eyes are red when he looks. up. “And?”

He waits for what feels like an eternity before moving. The anticipation seeping out of his out of his pours leaking into the room and saturating the air. 

“It’s really bloody good.” He says. She stares at him waiting for him to start laughing. Waiting fo him to question her sanity. “Seriously, Sara. This—you’re amazing.” 

“Really?” He nods. “What about—“ Her stride is wide trying to get over to the couch to sit next to him and show him a bit that she wrote because she couldn’t find the right words. “This.” She says pointing to a page. He cocks his head and reads it over again. 

“No I think it works. Well, actually.” Then he takes the book from me and flips it to one of the first pages. A poem she wrote about meeting him—kind of. “This one, I think it’s a good one. Like about friendship and stuff. Made me think of us.”

“That fantastic because it’s about us.” She smiles. He laughs. When they make eye contact she suddenly feels more serious about it than she has all day. “Thank you for reading all of it. I just—it’s been so long and I didn’t know if I was any good anymore.”

“I knew you had it in you.” He says giving me a side hug.

~~

They’re sat around a coffee table, Sara on the floor, laptop in front of her. Harry is sat with his elbows on his knees staring intensely at the screen. Niall sits opposite them plucking various melodies out on a guitar, just to see what they sound like. Liam and Louis stand in the booth behind a big window, headphones over their ears and testing out vocals. Kale lays next to Harry on the couch—asleep. 

And earthy minty scent wades around us. Harry said it might be useful to keep her calm, even though she’s been here a few times now, it’s strange to be here involved. 

In their first writing session, Harry had brought Sara along with him. Surprising the others. Sara shows them a revised song that she and Harry had worked on a bit when they were still in Kalamazoo. They dug right in and even got to recording a rough version on the song. 

Sara liked the group effort. Her and them, making something great together. So even in their sixth writing session, they’re all here. Her words with their voices. Them, together, trying to find the perfect melody for the chorus. Turns out Louis and Liam can do a pretty sick harmony. Sara isn’t much of a singer so she lets them get to it.

When Niall starts strumming a rhythm to three different chords in a nice pattern. it’s Harry that speaks up. 

“What was that?” He asks after Niall stops. “Quite liked it actually.” Niall goes at it again, testing a few different one. It’s up beat, two happier chords mixed with an almost sad one. But it works. 

“I agree.” Sara says. After Liam and Louis step out of the booth, Liam starts singing random vowels over Niall’s guitar. Harry looks over to mimic the pitches while saying the words. Niall adlibs and they change some words. They feed off each other, no one thinking their idea is better than any other. 

It’s then that Sara realizes just how good they are. She could recognize just how lucky she was. How incredibly, mind blowingly, unbelievably, ridiculously, impossibly favored she is. The world loves me, and I can see that. 

The five of them work on the song until they can’t keep their eyes open. The boys even get to recording it, and when they’re done they’re still so charged with energy, Louis’ decides for them, they need to celebrate. However, because it’s nearly 5am, they call him out on it, and decide to just head to bed. Harry falls asleep in the car back to his. Niall rides with they and intends on going back to his own place, but he comes inside anyway. Niall crashes on the couch and Sara releases the driver from his responsibilities. Harry is already tucked into bed so after a glass of water and a quick glance at the stars while Kale is running about doing his business, she does the same. 

She can’t sleep though. Too excited. Too nervous. 

Tour had been long and it was weird to admit she kind of missed her. The night Sara had spent with Cara had been an interesting one. After talking, they got to kissing. Sara though It was nice getting to meet someone so pure, so themselves. After getting her number at a party Harry dragged Sara to (which was made significantly better after hanging out with Cara the whole night) they haven’t really stopped texting. 

So instead of sleeping, Sara texts her. And they kept texting until they pass out. It was Sara first. When she wakes up the next afternoon, she has three unread texts from her. 

 

 

Sara wears a dopey smile across my face for the rest of the day, only getting teased by it a few times by Harry and Louis. The closer Cara and Sara get, the more she thinks that perhaps she might want to come out officially. 

Turns out the song is good, gets even better after some fancy dance producer looks at it and makes some adjustments. Lyrics mostly stay in tact. They knock a few more from Sara’s book, taking some of her lyrics and putting them with Liam’s or Louis’, or Harry’s or Niall’s. It’s kind of nice when they fit. When it’s just the perfect line to follow something. It makes it easy. And after a month there are 19 songs that have Sara in them, there’s almost thirty altogether. 19 songs, a line or two of mine in almost every sing one. It goes to the record label heads, and producers come and fix them up but just like with the first, they stay whole. 

Fifteen songs are chosen to go on the album, singles are picked, and Sara becomes proud to say all four singles are things that started from her head. She becomes proud to say she’s a writer. Music videos are shot and it all goes by so quick. Sara doesn’t sit in on set fixing up the rest of Harry’s week, any longer. Harry has to get a new assistant and Sara gets to sit on set as a friend, as a person getting to see their work come to life. 

Harry throws a big do the night the music video drops. He invites everyone Sara likes, and nobody who makes her feel uneasy. Cara comes as Sara’s unofficial date. Being still publically attached to Niall makes it a little more difficult to actually date her, so sometimes Harry comes on they’re dates so they can pass it off as three friends going out together. Sometimes Niall and Harry come and it’s somewhat of a double date, Sara jokes with Harry—he isn’t particularly fond of her incessant teasing. 

Cara looks pretty in her dress. And she tells Sara, she does too. The backyard already smells of booze, and Sara is glad. The air is cool since the sun went down. The bass in the music is hard, vibrating her heart, and she doesn’t mind that either. 

A drink stays in her hand the whole night, and Cara stays by her side—or rather Sara stays by her side. She introduces Sara to a few people she’s not met yet and they welcome ger with open arms. Sara isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or any other number of mind altering substance that makes everyone here so kind tonight. 

The party starts at ten, and it’s going on two now. Harry stumbles up onto the stage where the DJ is pumping his tunes. He’s got a plastic champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other. 

“Hello everyone. Thank you all for being here. I wanted to propose a toast to our guest of honor if that’s okay. She’s a woman who is simply fantastic. She’s so kind and smart, and so fucking talented,” 

“You can say that again.” Cara deepens her voice and yells out. The crowd cheers, laughs and claps while Sara’s whole body turns into a tomato. 

“She’s my best friend, and a person who not only inspired a great deal of our upcoming album, out November 16,” Harry clears his throat, pauses and smiles at everyone. “But she’s also been the the lead force in the writing for every song. Just want to thank you love for being in my life. Love you. To Sara.” He says. Sara can’t help but cover her face with her hands and shake her head. Sara’s already pretty short, but she sinks into the crowd further hoping to go unnoticed. Cara wraps her in her arms and kisses the top of her head. 

“To Sara.” Everyone chants. 

They get drunk. All of them. And at the end of the night Cara helps Sara up to her room where she stays. Kissing is her game and she’s victorious. Her long slender arms wrapped tight around Sara. Her stubby fingers in Cara’s blonde locks while she spends time licking Sara’s jaw. She smells like strawberries and cream, like Sara’s shampoo because she stayed last night too. 

Eventually they get each other out of their dresses, but they don’t get much further due to how drunk they have become. Seeing her in this haze is different. Her hair makes it look like she has a halo. Her dry hands feel like sand, but the kind of sand you sit in to watch the sunset off the coast. 

She lays behind Sara. One arm under her neck, their fingers now tangled together. The other is around Sara’s waist, and rests on her tummy. Sara can feel Cara’s breath on the back of her neck. 

“We should drink some water.” She says. “Drank too much we did—don’t want to be hung over.”

Sara slides out of Cara’s pleasant grip, wobbling slightly when her feet touch down. She makes it to the kitchen for bottle of water by trailing down the walls in the hallway. 

When she gets there, there’s a figure at the sink. It’s Harry standing in just some boxers. 

“We’re quite the pair.” Sara says peaking her head around the corner and curtseying as he looks over his shoulder. She’s still just in her own bra and underwear, she laughs quietly and blushes. 

“Niall is quite proud of you.” He says. She cocks her eyebrow up. “He’s crashing in my bed.” He explains, answering her unasked question. “Won’t shut up actually.”

“Talk to him yet?” Harry stays quiet. “I think I want to break up with him.” She says. Harry huffs out a chuckle and lets his head hang so his chin his his chest. 

“This going well with Cara then?”

Sara holds her hands around her stomach and looks away from him. 

“Is she in your room then?”

She can’t help but bite her lip when she nods. They’re quiet again for a few moments before she crosses closer to the fridge to grab what she comes for. 

“Should get back…” She says suddenly sober. 

“ ‘M proud of you too. I meant everything I said.” He says barely above a whisper. 

With the bottles tucked under her arm she pulls him in for a hug. She goes up on her toes and kiss the corner of his mouth and pat his cheek. 

“I know.” 

Kale follows behind Sara, happy to have them home. Tail wagging, he first sits on his bed watching Cara and Sara drink the water. Then when they tuck under the covers, he lays down. And they all fall asleep.


End file.
